Growing: Shelke's diary
by b17chofcerberus
Summary: Post-DoC, Shelke starts keeping a journal to try and sort things out. Rated T for long words, slow-paced writing, mischief, and Shelke and Yuffie's dirty minds.
1. Chapter 1

_So this is my first fanfic, of any kind, ever. This first chapter may be a little dull and introspective, but things do pick up... Please review; any comments (constructive, obvs) are appreciated. Also, if anybody thinks of a better title, _please_ suggest it! Thanks!_

Day 1

I'm beginning to realize that I think too much.

That is, I think instead of talking, or doing things. I just sit, and think.

The fact is, I'm always thinking because I don't know what to do, or what to say. Until I figure out how to act, how can I... well... act? Do I act my age, or do I act the age at which my body is stuck in time? If I act my real age, will anyone take me seriously? I know Vincent Valentine does – but I think I still frighten him a little, because of what I represent to him. With the rest of them it's more ambiguous. I sometimes feel like everyone tiptoes around me, like I'm something volatile, a feral cat who could lash out at any moment. It's because they fear the unknown. I'm not a nine-year old; they know that. But I don't look like one, and yet since I spent most of my life up until now locked in Shinra's basement, I don't know anything about the world, or being sociable. I'm sure I knew how to be sociable once; I've just forgotten. I don't know what to say anymore. I might as well be nine years old...

But I think too much to be nine years old, I'm too quiet and serious. I don't remember how to be a child anymore. It's been a decade, a decade of hell, since I pretended to be something else and went on an adventure through the house or the playground or wherever. I can't let go and let my imagination wander anymore. DeepGround must have killed it. It makes sense; they needed my mind for their own purposes, and a child's vivid imagination would have been the severest of handicaps. It's coming back, little by little, but I can't control what I imagine; I can't daydream. If I try, what comes is memories, and so all my daydreams are nightmares. (Would that be a daymare? Is that even a word? I should ask Vincent. If anyone has experience with nightmares, I'm sure it's him.)

I've begun to dream at night again. Most of the time they're disturbing, unpleasant. There's one dream that I keep having, over and over, where everyone is moving around me very fast, like hummingbirds. I can tell that all they're doing is going through a normal day – but I'm paralyzed. I can't move. Hours pass; I can feel myself running out of mako, but I can't get anyone's attention – they're going by too fast! I know that if I faint now, someone will trip over me, and with how fast everyone's bustling around, they could get seriously injured. This makes me realize that I am only a burden; there they all go, doing what they do, and all I can do is stand here, doing nothing, until I run out of energy and one of them has to help me. It's a miserable feeling. I start to get dizzy and a ringing fills my ears; I know I'm about to collapse, and there's nothing I can do about it. My legs crumple under me and I fall, waking up with a jerk as if I landed on the bed.

I try to counteract that feeling by doing little things. I help Tifa do the dishes. I have to stand on a box to do it, but at least I feel like I'm doing something to earn my keep. I carry things sometimes, help Cloud load or unload the car, little things like that. It feels good to do things. When I'm active, it makes me wonder why I sit around all day, thinking.

That brings me to why I'm doing this. Marlene came to me while I was sitting at a table by the window and struck up a conversation. It took me by surprise; mostly they leave me alone when I'm staring off into space like that.

"Hi, Shelke."

"Hi, Marlene."

"Whatcha thinking about?"

I shrugged. "A lot of things..." I started to blush. "It's sort of complicated."

Marlene nodded seriously. "Tifa figured you'd say something like that. So we bought you this." She held out a purple notebook, with a label on the front that said ****Shelke's Diary**** in large bubble letters that appeared to have been written with an orange hi-lighter. The letters were surrounded by little flowers and stars, in pink and green highlighter respectively. A mechanical pencil, also purple, was tucked in between the pages.

"Yuffie made the tag on the front. Isn't it great?" Marlene grinned. "Anyway, we wanted you to have it."

"...Thank you. What... what is it for, exactly?" The term "diary" rang a bell, but it was clearly something I hadn't thought about in a long time.

"It's... well... it's a diary," Marlene said, looking a little puzzled. "I have one too. It's like... It's somewhere you can write things down, like stuff that happened during the day that you want to remember, or things that made you upset, or things you don't want to tell anybody. We figured you've got a lot to think about, with everything that's happened, so maybe this would make it easier. 'Cause this way, you can write everything down that you're thinking, so you can do all your thinking at once, see?"

I looked down at the diary, then back up at Marlene. She looked a little embarrassed.

"I'm not sure if that makes any sense... But anyway, we all care about you, so we hoped this would cheer you up. Enjoy!" She gave me a big hug and then ran away before I could thank her.

I understand things a little better now. They wanted me to know that I'm not a burden - I'm a friend.

I have friends now. It's a feeling I don't quite understand yet. But maybe they can help me figure out just who I am. Maybe I don't have to be shy. Maybe I can... count on them to be patient with me.

I hope I dream a little better tonight.

Thanks, Marlene. I owe you one.


	2. Chapter 2

_This is the second chapter, where things actually start to happen. Poor li'l Shelkie is re-introduced to emotions, and she doesn't like them. But she _does _like ice cream. ^_^_

Day 2

I've learned so much today, and it's only evening. I haven't been this happy in a long time.

After breakfast I was helping Tifa do the dishes as usual, and I thanked her for the diary.

She laughed. "You're welcome, Shelke. It was just my idea, but Yuffie and Marlene picked it out. I _presume_ Yuffie actually bought it, though come to think of it, maybe she's not the best influence on Marlene..." She frowned a little and paused in her scrubbing.

"Anyway, I really like it," I said hastily, hoping Tifa would forget her worries about Yuffie. I had a feeling that Tifa was going to nag her about it later, and I didn't want trouble to start over something that was about me. It doesn't bother me that my diary might be stolen. To be honest I think it's funny. Yuffie _would_ give someone a stolen present.

Tifa smiled, worries pushed to the side for a moment. "That's good. Have you written in it yet?"

I nodded. "I started yesterday. Marlene was right; it really does help to get your thoughts down on paper. You can take as long as you need to choose the right words, without feeling awkward. It's like talking to yourself, but nobody can hear..." I blushed, feeling like I'd said too much.

"That's what it's for. If you're always holding back feelings because you can't express them, it's stressful. The diary is to help you find ways to express those feelings." She paused to hand me a soapy dish to rinse off, and smiled down at me, and I felt as if something was tugging at a point inside my chest. "It's good to see you finally coming out of your shell, Shelke," she added.

That was a new phrase for me. "Coming out of my shell," I repeated slowly. It made sense; a turtle or a mollusk will hide inside itself for protection, which is exactly what I did - and what Vincent did. Come to think of it, he hid himself in a shell almost literally, suffering, until Cloud found him.

"You're right. I _do_ have a shell. I never thought of it that way. Thank you, Tifa."

She looked a little alarmed, so I smiled up at her. That seemed to reassure her. I suppose it was an unusual way for a nine-year-old to react. Or a 19-year old, for that matter. I guess that most people would have heard that expression before, without finding anything all that deep in it.

Later on, Yuffie took Marlene, Denzel and I for some ice cream. I'm beginning to really love ice cream. It's been so long since I had it, I had forgotten it even existed. My favorite is mint with chocolate chips. It looks bizarre, but the flavor is amazing... Chocolate is such a fascinating substance. I want to try it in more contexts. I'll ask Yuffie about that – she has a real fondness for the stuff.

Now that I think about it, I don't remember ever eating in DeepGround. I think we lived on mako and not much else. I wonder if that's why I never grew. The mako infusions kept my body from starving itself, kept it in a state of stasis where it couldn't die, but it wouldn't develop without nutrition. I wonder if I'll ever grow. With the added bonus of eating real food, I've been needing the mako less frequently - but I still need it every couple of days.

Maybe it's only wishful thinking that I'll start maturing again, but that's another thing I've learned from my new friends - hope. I used to cling to it, in my first days with DeepGround. I hoped someone would save me. Later on, I rejected it as a useless thing; why cling to hope if you will only be flung down again and again? But when we came back from getting ice cream, I thought about all the people I had seen in the town, walking around with sadness in their eyes - people who have lost homes, loved ones, people who had barely made it out of Omega's attack alive, or Meteor before that, people who had seen loved ones crushed by Sephiroth, Shinra, DeepGround, all the monsters that have come again and again to hurt and to destroy. And I realized that hope is what makes life bearable for some of these people, hope that things will continue to get better. The town is in shambles in many places; people have little money, and many stores are boarded up; people have covered their windows with sheets of paper, because they cannot afford to replace the glass. And yet, they have the audacity to walk in the park and enjoy the nice weather, and even buy ice cream. It's those small gestures that keep hope alive, hope that everything isn't all bad after all. Without hope, many people would have no reason to live. That reminded me of my sister, and I started to cry. Cloud ran over and asked me what was wrong; I told him all of that, what I just wrote. He put an arm around my shoulder and said, "You're growing up a lot faster than I did."

I wasn't sure what he meant, so I looked up at his face and saw that we have the same eyes, bright blue eyes that glow just a little in the light. I remembered what Tifa told me about him – that he had been part of Soldier, so he had been exposed to mako too. I remembered what he had lived through – he had seen Sephiroth, his former hero, kill people he loved dearly, and then Sephiroth had tried to take over his mind. To add insult to injury, he came down with geostigma. He gave up hope, too. But his friends had made him find it again, even though he had tried to shut them away. I understood what he meant then. It had taken him longer to find himself, and find hope. I haven't found myself, but at least I know why it is I want to live. Impulsively, I hugged him. I've never done that to anyone before, that is, not recently. I think he was a little surprised. I gave him a big smile and then I ran upstairs to grab my book and write all th_

...

Apparently I fainted. I had brought my diary back downstairs and was writing in my usual perch on the windowsill and it came on all of a sudden. I guess I was in such a good mood that I forgot I was due for a dose of mako... Vincent caught me when I fell. I'm glad he was so fast. I wish I'd remembered. I was so happy earlier, but that's ruined now... That's the trouble with hope - the darker side of life always catches up to you. That's why I gave up, all those years ago. It almost makes me want to give up again. It's not like me to be so irrational. But I have to remember what I learned today. I have to remember that they really care about me. Vincent flew several feet to catch me before I hit the floor, and waited by my side until I recovered, before carrying me up to bed, where I am now. I was touched to see him so protective. It brought tears to my eyes for some reason. I hope I haven't survived all I have only to become a crybaby.

I wonder if physical growth is as painful as mental and emotional growth. If so, I pity the normal people who have to do them both at the same time.


	3. Chapter 3

_Stuff is happening! Exciting! ...I hope. I actually came up with the idea for the main event of the chapter in a dream I had, so that's how Shelke discovers it too. Also, Yuffie is Yuffie, and Vincent is Vincent. Shelke is amused._

_**ALSO: I should probably mention, since I haven't yet, that I don't own FFVII or any of its characters. **Although I do own a Vincent Valentine action figure. Actually, I don't, my boyfriend does. So I _really_ don't own anything. Just a heads up in case somebody was fixin' to sue my innocent little behind. (yeah, innocent my ass... wait... that's what I just said :P)_

Day 3

I had the dream again, but very vivid this time, so vivid that I thought I was awake. That made it all the more appalling when everyone started whizzing past, and I still had no idea what to do. I had a horrible feeling that this was how things would be now, that the recurring dream had been a premonition, and that I had somehow missed some information in the past dreams that would tell me what to do. I tried to move, but my body felt immensely heavy, and I realized that there was no way I would make it across the room before I ran out of mako. Still, I had to try, and I struggled my way forward a few feet before collapsing.

This time, instead of waking, I felt a strong arm under my back, and turned my head to see that it was Vincent who had caught me. He pressed his free hand against the middle of my chest; I felt a heat begin to grow from his hand, then a cold heaviness as if some foreign object had been put there. A soft red glow appeared on the corresponding part of his chest. I was afraid, because the glow made me think he might transform into something that would hurt me, driving the nightmare even darker – until I felt a tingling warmth wash over my body, as if I were getting a mako infusion. But it was a milder, mellower feeling, so subtle that it felt more as if I had taken a big swallow of hot tea. It felt as if there was a tiny sun inside of me, my own little furnace that could make me powerful. I felt its energy flow through me as I drifted awake. I know what happened; it was materia. If a surgeon could put materia inside my body, like Vincent and the proto-materia, that would supply me with energy for a long time. I'm writing this down right away because I don't want to forget... If this can be done, I want it done right away. I need to talk to Reeve; I'm sure he knows someone.

...

I came running down the stairs saying I had to get in touch with Reeve A.S.A.P. so they got me on the phone with him. He said he knows someone who might be able to do it, a doctor who worked with my sister. He told me to give him a day to get in touch with the doctor and let her think about it - it's a procedure that's never been done before as far as he knows, and it could be quite dangerous; the doctor might not be willing to try it. I agreed, and now the waiting begins.

I told everyone about my idea. They seemed supportive of it. All I can do now is wait. I'm anxious. I want it to happen. I won't have to worry about fainting again. I'll be self-sufficient, like everyone else. Maybe... Maybe the doctor will find a way to make me start growing again. I shouldn't dwell on that. It'll make me go crazy if I keep thinking.

Yuffie and I went for ice cream again while Denzel and Marlene were at school. We sat on a bench in the center of Edge while we ate it. I got plain chocolate this time. The flavor was a little strong, but it grew on me. I'd like to try it mixed with vanilla... Vincent walked by, and Yuffie waved at him. I followed suit. He paused and awkwardly raised a hand in greeting, then swept on. I wonder where he was going; he had a bag in his hand. I hadn't seen him without his cloak before – but I guess he didn't want to be recognized. Of course, we'd have known him anywhere, but he was less likely to be approached by strangers this way. We're all public figures now, it seems, but him and Cloud most of all.

When he had gone, Yuffie heaved a big, frustrated sigh. "Aaaah, damn that Vincent!" she said angrily, stomping her feet.

"Why? What did he do?"

Yuffie groaned. "He's too damn sexy, that's what. Just look at that, look at that ass." She grabbed my arm and turned me around to look at him walking away. To be honest, I couldn't make anything out from this distance, but she went on. "Oof! And then he just saunters around in frickin' leather pants – driving me _crazy!_ – acting like he doesn't notice me and every other girl in town – well, except Tifa, but she's got her own problems – drooling after him day after day. I mean, come _on._ He can't be _that _oblivious. Ooooh, if I could get into his pants just _once_ I'd be happy for the rest of my life..." she seethed.

That was another new phrase for me. "Get into... his pants?"

Yuffie threw her arm around my shoulders. "Well, Shelkie, when a man and a woman like each other a lot, sometimes..."

I blushed violently. "Yuffie... I know what sex is. I just hadn't heard that expression before."

Yuffie ruffled my hair. "I knoooow; I was just teasing ya, that's all." She sighed, and was serious for a couple of seconds. "Sorry. I know it must bother you getting treated like a kid all the time."

I shrugged. "Not really. It's not like everybody treats me like I'm stupid or anything. And I do like ice cream." Yuffie was back into Yuffie Mode at the mention of ice cream.

"Yeah, but who _doesn't_ like ice cream? Seriously. But like, I just can't help feeling like you're my little sister or something, y'know? Even though really you're my age. Does that make sense? I dunno, I mean, you're so old, but you're so young, but like, you're, I dunno, 'wise beyond your years,' y'know? But like, you don't... You're in between... Whatever. Don't let me freak you out or anything." She giggled, waving a hand in the air as if to dismiss what she had just said.

I smiled. "Thanks, Yuffie. I may not feel nine years old, but I don't feel 19 either. I could use having a big sister again."

"Awesome!" Yuffie jumped up on her feet. "We can do all the stuff I never got to do with a sister! We can eat tons of ice cream, and and paint each others' nails, and pull all kinds of crazy stunts together, and I'll pick out cool clothes and shoplift them for you, and..."

Oh, Yuffie. I'm going to love being your sister, especially if it means being your partner in crime.

The phone just rang. It might be Reeve. I'm getting downstairs on the double. Shelke out.

Day 4 - well, no, not really...

I got so excited that I never got back to writing. It's been a couple of days. I'm all recovered now, with materia (donated by Yuffie) in my chest cavity. It's nestled in there next to my stomach. I can't even feel it, to be honest - it emits energy into my body at a very low level constantly, so I probably won't even notice, if all goes well. I'd rather not dwell on it too much; it might make me paranoid. The doctor didn't know how long it would last, so I'll keep an eye on it. She said if I felt fatigued for a long period of time or dizzy I should contact her at once.

She gave me a thorough check-up. There's no telling how much has been done to my body by DeepGround, but it seems my hunch was partly right. The doctor said that mako has the ability to sustain life, even if the body's vital functions go largely ignored. That also explains why Vincent survived locking himself away so long, by having the proto-materia in his body. She also said that it seems I've had a hysterectomy. (I guess that's two things I'll never have to worry about, even if I grow...) I had suspected as much, based on a scar that I have. It seems very like DeepGround to have me spayed like a stray cat. That probably has contributed to my lack of growth. The doctor said that she _could_ give me some hormones that would make me grow, but she suggested I think about it for a while first. I think that was a good suggestion - I shouldn't rush into something I might regret. My body's been through enough – forcing it to mature might not be the most sensible idea...

Anyway, I'm home now. I'm a little tired; the doctor said to take it easy for the first while, so I guess that's what I'll do. I haven't got much more to say for now. I'm on the couch downstairs relaxing; Cloud and Tifa won't let me help them with anything – "Doctor's Orders" – so I guess all I can do is doze for now. Tifa insisted, in a very motherly way, that someone keep an eye on me, so Vincent is sitting next to me playing a game on his phone. I didn't think he played games. It makes me smile to see him do something so frivolous. The more I think about it the more funny it is. Everything is funny right now, for some reason. I think it's because I'm tired. I've seen that happen to Marlene and Denzel before, when they've been up too late. Maybe I should sleep... I wonder if Vincent's leg is a good pillow?

This is new. I've never giggled before. I'm enjoying it. Only now I have to explain myself, as Vincent is looking at me very strangely. It's making me giggle harder. I feel like jelly. I'll write more later.

_...So yeah. Feedback, please! What do you think of the materia thing – do you think it might end up giving her special powers (in addition to her abilities already), or would that be totally excessive? What kind of materia do y'all think it was? I'm curious to know what people think!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Yay! Positive feedback! *does Yuffie-like happy dance* So... This one gets a little sappy towards the end – but the image of Vincent Valentine with a little kitten made me jump up and down and go "squeeee!" so I simply had to write it. Also, Shelke is a mischievous little twerp. ^_^ I had fun with this one. **Disclaimer: I don't own $#!*. **Caution: boobies._

Day... Hm. I need a new system. I guess finding out what the date is wouldn't hurt.

I've been having some very strange thoughts lately, or strange for me, at least. I keep finding myself staring at people, trying to imagine what they look like under their clothes. It's very amusing. I told Yuffie, and she laughed for about a minute and then we started doing it to passersby and discussing it together and giggling. Then it started to rain and we had to run home before we got soaked. Needless to say, we got soaked anyway. Oddly, I enjoyed it. An adrenaline rush is wonderful when you're not actually in danger.

She still has the hots for Vincent. (Another new expression I learned today.) I think it's hilarious, because I can't imagine him giving into her at all. He is still very reclusive. Even if he has feelings of that kind, it doesn't seem like he's ready to face them yet, especially with someone as subtle and sensitive as Yuffie... I didn't tell her that, though. I just smirked. It drives her crazy when I smirk without explaining why. She's very entertaining that way.

I tried a new flavor of ice cream today. It was black cherry. That might be my new favorite – it was so sweet! I want to try every flavor of ice cream there is, and then I can start trying combinations. That could take a long time... I almost wish I really _was_ nine years old; that would give me ten extra years to try everything. Then again, with this materia in my body providing me with constant energy, I'm probably immortal. That's something I don't want to think about right now. Eternity is simply too big.

Anyway, I've been remembering things about my past – not like my usual daymares, but things from further back, before DeepGround. I still don't remember my father. I remember my mother, a little; she was beautiful, gentle, kind – everything someone might remember their mother being, and a little too thin. In retrospect, she seems very fragile. I don't remember how she died. I remember after her death, Shalua comforting me. I've remembered that for a while. I remember being kidnapped, but nothing for some while afterward. Most of DeepGround is a blur of pain and darkness and fear. I'm hoping that the more I remember what things were like before that, the more of that blur I'll forget.

Mostly I've been remembering my sister. Shalua and I had a good relationship as sisters, from what I can recall. There was no rivalry; there was just enough of a gap in age, and she was mature-minded enough, that she didn't resent me. In any case, I don't remember her giving any indication of that, not exactly. She did have her tantrums, though. She hit puberty very early; I used to tease her about it, knowing full well the same would probably happen to me. It almost did, but DeepGround cut it short... Nipped it in the bud, so to speak, although in this context that sounds especially painful. I used to tease Shalua about her breasts; when she was being sulky I would sneak up next to her and poke them to make them wiggle, and giggle madly when she would hit me and yell. I stopped when my own glands started to form and I realized how painful it was. I learned that the hard way. I don't remember exactly what it was that I walked into, but I was much more sympathetic to Shalua's mammaries after that...

What an odd thing to remember. It's all Tifa's fault for making me think of it. Actually, it's more like Yuffie's fault; it's all the time I've spent with her that is reviving my taste for mischief. Tifa can't help being so bouncy. I should probably stop thinking about her bounciness and do something useful.

...

Cloud found a stray kitten. He says it was all by itself, in the rain, shivering under a bench in the center of town, meowing pitifully. He wrapped it up in a bandana to carry it home. It's so tiny! It must be only days old; its eyes are still shut. I thought maybe it was blind, but Yuffie, who seems to know a lot about felines, said that was normal for very young kittens. Its eyes will open soon, probably. We didn't know what to feed it – it's too young to be weaned, but Yuffie knew from experience that feeding cats cow's milk was a bad idea. I never would have guessed that; I asked her why and she started to explain, but Tifa cut her off and suggested we take it to see a veterinarian. We did, but the office was closed, and wouldn't open again until Monday. So Yuffie and I left the kitten with Cloud, and snuck in through the ventilation system; I did an SND into the security system to turn all the alarms off – though the security turned out to be very low – and after looking up all the relevant information we might need, we stole some kitten formula and a bottle to feed it with. It was the most fun I've had in a long time. Plus, now I know why feeding a cat milk is unadvisable. It got Yuffie into a lot of trouble, too, and ruined a silk kimono, not to mention the carpet.

So anyway, the kitten has to be fed every 2 hours, and kept in quarantine for two weeks. We'll take it to the vet on Monday, if it survives. I volunteered to offer my room to keep it isolated in, since I'm not busy. We decided to watch over it in shifts so that it has constant company, with everyone instructed to wash their hands thoroughly after handling the kitten; it could be carrying something, hence the need for quarantine. Cid is here for a day or two, but he can't stand cats. Yuffie and Marlene had the first shift, until Marlene had to go to bed. Yuffie insisted on staying, but then gave a giant yawn and was forced to admit that maybe she needed some rest. Then Cloud and Tifa (and Denzel, who snuck out of bed to see what was going on), and now me and Vincent. We'll take it through till morning. Vincent has his clawed gauntlet and pointy shoes off – for safety – and is holding the kitten in his lap. It seems to be asleep. It's very incongruous to see him, who normally seems cold and fierce, sitting on my bed with a tiny kitten. He was looking at it with a slightly puzzled expression at first, as if he didn't quite know what it was. But just now, I saw a smile tug at one corner of his mouth, and he's stroking the kitten's back gently. It is purring softly.

I have that feeling again, as if some force is tugging at something inside my chest; I would be worried about the materia, but I've felt this before, so I know that it is just an emotion. What emotion, I couldn't say. Something about seeing Vincent and the kitten is making my eyes prickle. I really _am _becoming a crybaby, aren't I? I suppose it can't be helped. I'll overcome it. I just have to get used to feeling things.

...

I had the chance to hold the kitten for a while. It is very small, and striped grey and white. Its nose, and the pads on its feet, are bright pink. Holding it gave me that same feeling, which I think must be affection. I know I shouldn't get attached to the little creature, since it's fragile and might not live through the next couple of days, but somehow I can't help but feel protective of it. It's a new feeling for me; I'm used to defending only myself, or being defended. I like this feeling. It makes me think I'm really becoming human again.

I set it on my lap, and after a while it rolled over and started meowing and nuzzling at my belly. It tickled and made me laugh.

"I think it's hungry," Vincent said, smirking. I then remembered that it probably thought whoever holding it was its mother, and it was looking for a food source that I will never possess. I blushed (I'm doing that much too often; I wish I could help it) and asked for the bottle; Vincent filled it up and handed it over. It was strange and new to feel the tiny, furry creature against my body, vibrating a little as it purred. It was so soft, and warm, and I was glad to be helping it survive. I glanced at Vincent and saw him smiling a little as he watched. I smiled back and his smile broadened. There was a look in those red eyes that I never saw there before, except in his past self. If I hadn't seen him through Lucrecia's memories, I would never have thought that Vincent Valentine could be tender. It pleases me to see that look back again – it shows that he is becoming human again, as well.

_So... kittens. And Vincent smiling. 3 3 3 Doesn't get much snugglier than that. :D_


	5. Chapter 5

_Hey there! Sorry for the long wait on this one – I had some family obligations that involved being out in the New Hampshire woods with no internet... Not that I mind, though. I've re-written this and chapter 6 several times... Anyway, for a brief summary, Mischievous Shelke is Mischievous. ;D **I don't own FFVII or its characters. I am merely using them shamelessly for my own purposes. **So there._

I woke up when the kitten started crying out for food again, and found that it was light outside. Vincent had lain down and dozed off at around three, with the little furball resting contentedly on his chest. I put myself between him and the edge of the bed, so that I would be there to keep the kitten from falling off the bed if it decided to wander. I must have dozed off, too. Vincent was surprisingly warm, and so lying close to him was soothing; I suppose that's why I fell asleep – I wasn't aware of feeling tired. My bed isn't very big; his feet were hanging off the edge. I hope it wasn't uncomfortable. I guess he really _is_ tall – everyone seems tall to me, so I never thought about it much. When I woke up, the kitten was meowing and misguidedly rooting around on Vincent's chest. It protested when I picked it up, but quickly quieted down when it found the bottle.

Vincent heaved a sigh and rolled over, muttering something. He had looked so peaceful earlier, but now his brows were knit into a frown. Being well acquainted with unpleasant dreams, I decided I should wake him. I placed the slightly protesting kitten in front of his face and let it crawl forward until it found his nose. The kitten nuzzled Vincent's nose with its own, purring, and began to suckle at it. Vincent's face twitched as the tiny whiskers tickled him. With a confused expression, his eyes fluttered open, and he put a hand out in front of his face to brush away whatever was abusing his features, and gave a small grunt of surprise. Letting the kitten taste a finger in the meantime, he propped himself on one elbow and looked at me quizzically.

I smiled. "Good morning, Vincent Valentine," I said innocently.

He grunted again. "I suppose you set this... _creature_ on me deliberately?" He was almost smirking; it showed in his eyes.

I cocked my head to one side in a Yuffie-ish way and held the bottle towards him. "Your turn," I said.

He sighed through his nose and took the bottle, giving me a mock-exasperated glance as the smirk spread to the rest of his features. I grinned and skipped off to see who else was up. I had caused Vincent Valentine to make a genuine facial expression, twice in twelve hours; I consider that a triumph.

Tifa was already downstairs and had just finished making coffee. She seemed to have dragged Yuffie out of bed with her; the unusually dejected ninja was sitting at the bar, resting her head on her arms and looking distastefully at a mug of coffee. Tifa looked up as I came in.

"Morning, Shelke. Do you want some coffee?"

I had never tried coffee, so I figured I might as well give it a shot. "Yes, please."

Tifa poured me a cup and set it on the bar next to Yuffie's. "How's Cloud's little kitty?"

"Doing well, as far as I can tell. Vincent's feeding it right now." Yuffie tensed up and opened one eye to look at me suspiciously.

"That's good. I peeked in right after I woke up and things were looking pretty cosy." Tifa cast a sideways glance at Yuffie, who had begun to look alarmed.

I nodded; I felt a little bad that Tifa was teasing her, but where Vincent was concerned, Yuffie simply _begged _to be teased. "We all napped together for a while, until the kitten woke me up."

Yuffie's eyes were wide open now. "Wait. Wait a minute. You mean to tell me that _you _spent the _whole _night _all cuddled up_ with _Vincent Valentine_ AND a snuggly little kitten?" She groaned, hiding her face in one arm and thumping the counter with her fist. "It's just not fair..."

I patted her on the shoulder. "There, there. Vincent had the kitten all to himself, anyway." Yuffie moaned again and kicked at the bar with her feet.

"Anyway," I continued, "I was thinking I might bring him up some breakfast..."

"No need," came a familiar deep voice from the stairs. Yuffie looked up with a start, only to blush violently and hide her face again as Vincent strode into the room. "I'm headed home for a while."

"Will you stay for some bacon and eggs?" Tifa raised a spatula hopefully.

Vincent shook his head. "But thank you. And Shelke," he added, looking me right in the eye, "take good care of that kitten." Then he was gone, his long legs carrying him swiftly out of sight. He still walked as if he had a cloak flowing behind him, I noticed. Tifa laughed.

"Funny to see fearsome old Vincent all soft over a little kitty-cat," she said.

Yuffie heaved a big sigh and kicked the bar vengefully several times. Then she sat up, drained her coffee all at once, made a face at the taste, and stomped upstairs to get dressed. I sat there at the bar, still thinking of Vincent and the kitten. Anytime I need cheering up, I'll call up that memory; I can't help but smile. This makes no sense, technically speaking, but it makes me feel warm all over. It's strange how emotions are so deeply connected to all the senses, as if emotion were a sense in its own right. Life is such a peculiar, intricate tapestry of sensations, and I'm very lucky to be able to perceive it that way now.

Anyway, I'm left in charge of the little feline for the rest of the day, since everyone else is busy – not that I mind, though. Cloud has deliveries, Yuffie has some work for Reeve (which she is reluctant to do and nonsensically described as "stinky"), Barrett and Cid are leaving again, and Vincent is... well, I supposed it could best be expressed that he is simply Vincent. None of us are entirely sure how he spends his time. In any case, I've got plenty to read, including a book of 150 types of Solitaire. Even if the kitten does nothing but sleep, I'll be far from bored.

...

Vincent is back again. There's a huge commotion surrounding it, too – apparently, a massive fire broke out in his apartment building a couple of hours ago. He is responsible for saving the lives of many of his neighbors, but unfortunately, the building is in great disrepair and no-one can continue living there, at least not until some extensive repairs have been done. He managed to salvage his only irreplacable possessions (his weapons, I presume), but only after making sure everyone escaped. His hair is a little singed, but he doesn't seem to have sustained any injuries.

Fortunately, Tifa has space for him, since the spare room is vacant now. Yuffie will be very glad of that, when she finds out. I told him so, and that she admires him a great deal; he looked surprised and pleased. I imagined the look of alarm that might appear on his face if I told him what she _really_ wanted from him, and I was tempted to do so – but I figured he'd had enough stress today, and I didn't want to put him off before Yuffie even had a chance. I told him to surprise her later, and he seemed to like the idea. What I didn't tell him was that it would be the first step in a plan I've been formulating today. Tifa will be a willing co-conspirator, I'm sure, and I'll need an accomplice; Yuffie may be silly, but she isn't stupid, and if I am discovered before the plan comes to full fruition, it will all be for nothing...

That's all for now. Yuffie will probably be back within half an hour, and I need to monitor the situation closely. Shelke out.

_Heeheeheehee. Mischief. Keep reviewing, please! :D And I promise I'll have the next one up in a jiffy._


	6. Chapter 6

_So... Shelke's plan is revealed, and it succeeds – in making everybody want to puke, especially her. **I don't own FFVII and I don't own nobody in it. **Except for the kitten.=^..^= ** WARNING**: contains hardcore Yuffentine. Includes implied (but blatantly obvious) sex, Shelke-angst and incredibly graphic ice-cream consumption. Enjoy. :D_

Well, the plan was certainly a success, although I'm not sure quite how I feel about it. I'll start from the beginning, when Yuffie came home.

After de-briefing Tifa on my plans (which met with strong approval), I sat on the stairs and waited. The minute Yuffie got in the door, Denzel and Marlene came running, talking all at once, competing to be the first to tell her what had happened. Naturally, when she heard their garbled version of events, she was horrified.

"Omigawd! Where is he? Is he hurt? Oh, man, if he's hurt I swear to the Goddess I'm gonna f*%ing _kill_ somebod- _eek!_"

She jumped, eyes wide as saucers, as a clawed hand touched her shoulder.

"Yuffie. I'm alright." Vincent looked amused. Yuffie looked like she was about to melt like a scoop of ice cream. Then she spun around and threw her arms around Vincent in a violent hug.

"Oh, Vinny, you're _safe!_ Those two scared the _crap _outa me!" she pointed at Denzel and Marlene, and glared at them. The two children surreptitiously high-fived behind their backs, and I nearly laughed out loud. I had no idea that they had similar designs to mine!

The rest of the evening went by more or less normally. Yuffie stuck close to Vincent, although she was mostly at a loss for words, and would very frequently turn bright red to match his cloak. Yuffie at a loss for words is indeed an uncommon sight! The effects a physical attraction can have on people are really something... Eventually, I bid everyone goodnight and went up to my room and waited until I heard Vincent's footsteps climbing the stairs. I popped my head out the door.

"Vincent," I said, "don't go to bed just yet. I think someone might want to come up and talk to you in a little while." I jerked my head towards the bar downstairs and winked. Vincent nodded, with a look in his red eyes that I couldn't fathom. I retreated behind the door and waited, grinning at my own cleverness. Everything was going according to plan.

Sure enough, in not too long I heard Yuffie chirp her usual "nighty-night, y'all!" only to be intercepted by Tifa at the bottom of the stairs. I heard Tifa's voice, followed by the clinking of glass; as I had advised, Tifa was presenting Yuffie with a small bottle of red wine and suggesting she take it up to a certain person. I had to bite back giggles as I imagined the look on Yuffie's face when she saw there were _two_ wine glasses. I heard the ninja protesting ("_Oh_ no – nonononono...") and Tifa's gentle persuasion. Yuffie gave in and came up the stairs. I heard her take a deep breath and knock at Vincent's door; he let her in, and I moved away from the door, congratulating myself. Things were in their hands now. I spread my comforter down on the floor, so that I could sleep next to the kitten, turned off the light, and turned in. The clock on the bedside table read a little after 12:30.

I couldn't sleep. I heard Cloud and Tifa retreat to their room around 1, leaving the hired bartender to close as usual. I could faintly hear the murmur of conversation from Vincent's room across the hall. I tried to convince myself to doze, but the knot of tension in my stomach from earlier had not released, and I still felt as alert as I had after that cup of coffee. The kitten began to act hungry, so I fed it. (We have been keeping pre-mixed formula in a container that plugs into the wall and keeps its contents warm or cold, depending on what temperature it's set for. It's a wonderful little gadget that Tifa doesn't use much in the kitchen, and it's very accurate even though it was devised simply to keep sauce warm.) Then I tried again to sleep. The kitten managed fine, but I still couldn't.

I heard the bartender start closing up and I knew it was 2:45. Around 3, I realized that the conversation in the other room had stopped. It stayed quiet for several minutes, and I felt myself blush crimson as I realized that this was no mere break in the conversation. I tried frantically not to think, to take advantage of the silence and sleep – but it was no use. I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down and keep my imagination in check. Suddenly, I heard Yuffie mumble something; this was followed by a low growl which I can only assume came from Vincent. Bedsprings creaked, and I hid under the covers in horrified embarrassment. I had been well aware that this might happen (after all, wasn't it my goal from the beginning?), but I had hoped to be sound asleep when it did! It would be nothing but an ordinary awkward moment, if it were merely a question of overhearing what I would have preferred not to. That, I could simply have brushed off. But it brought to my attention things that had been going on in my mind, things that I had stubbornly ignored to the point of tricking myself into not even noticing them.

I can't help but laugh, because I really am ridiculous. For the first time in at least ten years – possibly the first time ever, but if I've always been this blockheaded, that's probably not the case – I have really, genuinely wanted to hit myself over the head with something. Not to make myself sleep; knocking myself unconscious would only have delayed the inevitable. It is simply the human urge to physically abuse a device which has not been working properly, and in this case, that device is my mind.

It all started with Lucrecia Crescent's data. Along with the information that DeepGround wanted came her memories, hopes, dreams, regrets – everything that she once was. I have great practice with keeping that kind of data isolated from my own; to fail in that would threaten my very sanity – if I were to lose that, I would have been unable to function, and DeepGround would have killed me. I was very conscious that her thoughts and feelings were not my own – but when Shalua and Vincent saved me, and her data began de-fragmenting within my mind and responding to his presence, I began to become acquainted with those feelings and memories, and to understand them. What my mind has been denying so convincingly is this: over time I began to sympathize with those feelings, and to develop my own to run parallel with them.

I mentioned once before that I felt I was becoming human again. This is clearly proof of it – what could be more quintessentially human than running away from complicated feelings while tricking one'sself into not knowing what's going on? Honestly.

Anyway, although I wish I had known a little better what I was doing, I don't regret my actions. I haven't seen them yet today, but I imagine Yuffie is very pleased. And, if I've made Vincent happy as well, then so much the better. At least there is some sense of resolution; Yuffie embodies many things I want to be: she is energetic, strong, brave and clever (it amazes me how someone can be so intelligent and so absurd at once – but then, I'm one to talk! Just look at me now...). If she represents what I want to be, and Vincent represents what I want, it is quite logical (in a terribly warped way, but logical nonetheless) that I would want to bring the two together. It's certainly for the better that I've thwarted myelf. Even if my feelings had been reciprocated, the fact remains that my body is nine years old – that would repel anyone! (At least, I would certainly hope so... Best not to dwell on that too much.) In any case, I think the problem has been solved just as quickly as it came up.

We'll be taking the kitten to the vet today – I should hurry and get dressed, instead of sitting here confusing myself...!

...

I seem to have oversimplified things with regards to my reaction. Somehow I thought that, however uncomfortable I may have been last night, today would be fine. (Perhaps my recent past is making me forget that I am not a computer?) In any case, I seem to have been under the impression that the mere knowledge of something being off limits would diminish any suffering caused by wanting it. In spite of everything I know about people and how they react, this is honestly what I thought.

Shelke Rui, formerly Shelke the Transparent of the Tsviets – are you completely stupid?

Anyway, this will take some getting used to. What a predicament I have gotten myself into...

Cloud felt guilty about not having much time to look after Sophie – that's the kitten – when he himself had found her to begin with, so he insisted on taking her to the vet's office himself. And so, instead of easing gradually into the new state of things, I was obliged to go for ice cream with Marlene, Denzel, and my own romantic handiwork. It didn't seem all that bad, until the sight of the couple was accompanied by a feeling very like someone had punched me in the stomach. I knew immediately that it would be a long day.

It was clear that neither of them regretted their actions, which was a relief (I was especially concerned on Vincent's part). They stuck together all the way to the ice cream stand, Yuffie's arm wrapped around Vincent's waist, her head resting on his shoulder. His arm reached around her shoulders to rest on her hip, keeping her against him.

Marlene wrinkled her nose as we walked behind them. "_That _was certainly quick."

I sighed. "I think it had been waiting to happen for a long time," I said.

Marlene looked at me oddly for a second, then nodded. "Huh. I keep forgetting you're actually a grown-up. You say such grown-up things sometimes and it's always a surprise."

Denzel scoffed. "Nineteen isn't a grown-up. She's just a teenager. Right, Shelke?"

I smiled ruefully and looked at the ground. "I guess, technically. I sure as hell don't feel grown-up, but I don't feel like a kid, either. So maybe teenager makes the most sense."

There was an awkward silence and I couldn't help but blush. I suppose it really isn't normal for someone to be arguing with herself over how old she is. Then Denzel spoke up, looking embarrassed.

"Hey, no worries. I mean, Vincent kinda filled us in on what you've been through and stuff when you first moved in..." My blush deepened. "So like, it's not like you're a kid, but... well... the way _he_ put it is you grew up in another world, so even though you're older you're like a kid in some ways. I _think_ that's what he said..." he added, looking dismayed and puzzled, "but anyway, I didn't mean to be rude or anything. It's not like it matters anyway. You're just... y'know, _you._"

I looked at him in surprise. That was probably the most words Denzel had spoken directly at me since I'd known him, and they revealed unsuspected depth. It was his turn to blush, and I gave him a big smile.

"Hey, no worries. I should get used to confusing people, anyway; unless I start growing anytime soon, I'm going to be confusing for a very long time."

Vincent had worn his cloak and armor for this outing, which was a wise move, as his celebrity status granted us all free ice cream cones. I tried orange sherbet this time, and it was delicious enough to make me momentarily forget the ache in my stomach that had nothing to do with hunger. Vincent glanced at me with worry in his eyes, after handing me my cone. I should have known that his enhanced senses could probably pick up my discomfort; I was doing a good job of hiding it on a visual level, but even I don't know the full extent of his abilities, and I was probably either blushing or a little bit too pale. I smiled at him in an attempt to throw him off, or at least make him stop worrying. The last thing I needed was his concern, especially since he was the source of my trouble...

Holding his ice cream in his claws, he beckoned to us with the other arm before putting it back around Yuffie.

"This way," he said, "there's something I want to show you."

Eating as we walked, we followed him to a small, overgrown park, with a walled-in pond in the middle. Five ducks swam across to meet us, quacking. Vincent greeted him with his quiet smile, his eyes soft.

"Sorry, haven't got anything today." The ducks were looking straight at him, quacking softly. It was clear they expected something.

"I come here often," he explained to us. "Normally I bring bread..." He looked back at the ducks, who were still staring expectantly.

"Aww, poor things," said Yuffie, looking at the birds with a mock pout. "They want you to feed them, Vinny." She elbowed him mischievously.

Remembering the path we had taken to get here, I realized that this must have been where Vincent was going when Yuffie and I had seen him from the benches in Edge many days ago, and that the bag he had been carrying was full of bread. I sat on the wall at the edge of the pond, watching the ducks, as he must have done many times before. Looking from the birds to his face with its gentle expression, I thought of his tenderness with Cloud's stray kitten, and the ache was back inside of me again, as if my materia had grown wings and wanted to get out. He obviously has a soft spot for animals; a bitter, irrational thought crossed my mind that instead of making me grow, I should have the doctor give me furry ears, whiskers and a fluffy tail, and perhaps I'd have better luck.

"Aha! I know," said Denzel suddenly, and bit the bottom off his ice cream cone. He noisily sucked out the remaining ice cream.

Marlene wrinkled her nose. "Gross." I smiled; I could see where this was going. While he crumbled up his cone into the water for the ducks, I copied him. Brain-freeze struck halfway through, but I soldiered on – if I stopped, it would drip onto the ground, and there was no way I would waste precious orange sherbet! When it was all gone, I clutched at my forehead and suppressed a groan as an icy, painful ball seemed to roll slowly down the whole length of my spine. I won't be doing that again any time soon.

When I recovered, Yuffie was drinking her ice cream, too, as Vincent watched with undisguised interest. Marlene rolled her eyes and continued eating her cone in the conventional way.

Yuffie crumbled her cone for the ducks, who greedily nibbled it away. She poked her lover persuasively. "Go on, Vinny." He looked at her in mock puzzlement. She gestured towards the ducks, who were looking at him again. "They're waiting..."

He smiled indulgently, and gracefully tilted his head back, throwing the line of his neck and jaw into exquisitely sharp relief as he bit the bottom off of his ice cream cone.

I was paralyzed. It was as bad and as inescapable as the brain-freeze; I was physically unable to remove my eyes from his form. I watched in fascination, goosebumps breaking out all across my body (not from ice cream, this time) as his lips gently worked at the bottom of the cone, his adam's apple sliding rhythmically, his eyes closed and brows gently knit in concentration. As he brought the cone down and his head back upright, I realized that I had completely crushed my cone in my left fist. I relaxed my hand and let the crumbs fall into the water, still transfixed as Vincent grimaced at his own bout of brain-freeze. Yuffie leaned over with a mischievous smile, and tenderly licked a dribble of chocolate ice cream from the gunman's chin.

That was too much. My physical reaction was too violent for me to contol; I clutched at my stomach with one hand and a tiny moan escaped my lips. I genuinely felt as if I had been punched.

Denzel chuckled. "You guys are gonna make Shelke hurl."

Taking his cue, and pretending my reaction was a sardonic one, I leaned over the edge of the pond and made graphic retching noises. Denzel followed suit, while Marlene stood by and yelled an exasperated, "Aw, _geeeze,_ guys! Really..." (I had no idea she was so squeamish; I shall retain that knowledge for future use! Hahahaha...)

Having successfully ruined the moment, Denzel and I high-fived and washed the ice cream off our fingers in the pond. I tried to still my weak knees while Vincent crumbled his cone for his feathered friends. It's very embarrassing to be unable to explain why one is blushing and trembling all over – luckily, no-one seemed to notice, but I suppose if they had I could have blamed the coldness of the sherbet.

Anyway, we're all home... Cloud says the kitten will be left at the vet's office for the next few days, where a trained professional will continue to nurse it as I have been doing. The vet will keep us updated. According to the vet's assessment, the kitten is female; Cloud named her Sophie. I'll miss the little furry thing, but if all goes well, she'll be back with us soon.

What a day. It's one thing to come out of your shell – it's another thing entirely to look back in and confront what was lurking in there with you...

_Tee-hee, poor Shelkie. Oh well, she'll get over it... Probably. Then again, if she's anything like I was when I was 9, or 19 for that matter... Yikes. Please review, and stay tuned! :D Thanks for the feedback from those who've bothered!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Hey, all y'all! :D Thanks for all the positive reviews; don't hesitate to make suggestions on what I can change or do better (or what you think should happen!)... Sorry for the long wait on this one. **I don't own FFVII, blah blah ramble ramble.**_

I thought I would stay away from writing for a while, simply because I had a feeling that I would end up writing about the same thing over and over. That would be counterproductive, to say the least... I had imagined a break of only a few days, but I became very busy, and now a week has gone by without my writing a word! I should catch up a little.

The reason I have been so busy: we – that is, Yuffie and I – have been working as a team for Reeve Tuesti. We are part of a plan to break up the various gangs that have gradually taken over Edge and what is left of Midgar. They are beginning to fight amongst themselves, catching civilians in the crossfire, literally and figuratively... Some of the gangs are attempting to expand their territory, and the others are defending their own viciously. They are acquiring more and more members; ordinary citizens are getting caught up in the fight, as gangs will often disrupt shipments of necessary supplies to areas controlled by rivals. This in turn forces the citizens to rely on "their" gang, the group controlling their area, to defend them. The situation is further complicated by the fact that the gangs are aiding in the distribution of a highly addictive new drug, its most common name being "snowfire" (presumably a reference to its effects on the user's body temperature). The worse things get, the more people turn to it for a false sense of escape; the more popular the drug becomes, the higher the demand, the higher the price, and the more the gang violence escalates... Our job consists of bringing down leading drug dealers. This involves me hacking into security systems while Yuffie steals important things; the Turks take care of the rest, which I prefer not to think about.

The jobs usually take place at night, of course, but preparation takes up most of the day. We are informed of our target in the morning. We (or Reeve, using one of his many tricks, which include but are not limited to Cait Sith) then scout out the area, to get some idea of what the job will entail. This often involves as much personal risk as the missions do – if we were caught, there would be hell to pay. Cait Sith's latest version is able (when necessary) to remove its boots and run on all fours, behaving in a much more cat-like manner than its predecessors; this makes it much less suspect. My own appearance has come in very handy as well, and we work nicely as a team: a panicked child chasing a pet who has run away will disarm almost any security guard into letting said child into the court yard to retrieve it. A lot can be ascertained from there; Reeve's contact lenses not only hide my peculiar eyes, but they are capable of detecting a great deal of electronics that cannot be seen with the naked eye. Once I know the nature of the security system, disabling it becomes that much easier, and it is easy enough to collect data while looking bewildered and saying "_wow,_ what a cool mansion, mister!" I have only used this tactic twice, in different disguises, so as not to arouse suspicion. (Both times, of course, Yuffie or one of Reeve's other spies have ascertained ahead of time that there are no guard dogs. If they were to catch and dismantle Cait Sith, it would blow our cover! Besides, although he... it... has been rebuilt many times, that little robot is really endearing.) Having gotten an idea of what we are up against, we form a plan of action over lunch, inform Reeve, then take the rest of the day to rest until the mission; if we are concerned that they suspect something, we wait until the following night to carry it out. We have been doing this almost every day for a week.

Our strategy is tragically flawed. Because of our actions, tons of "snowfire" have been destroyed; however, more continues to be manufactured. We are destroying supplies of it faster than they can be produced, which should be a triumph – but the gang leaders are blaming our raids and the resulting shortages on each other rather than ShinRa, and the violence has continued to escalate. After last night's mission, Reeve declared that he has given us the next few days off. It may be even longer; we will be free until Reeve, Rufus ShinRa and whoever else is in charge can come up with some sort of solution.

I'm grateful for the break, and so is Yuffie. I imagine Vincent is grateful too, as they are currently making up for lost time across the hall. I was restless anyway, so I have temporarily relocated to the roof, by way of the fire escape outside my window. There are more stars visible now than there used to be; there are fewer city lights now, and Edge isn't covered by a plate. The moon is only a tiny sliver right now, and at first glance it looks like a fingernail clipping carelessly dropped on the sky – but if I look closer, I can see the part of it that is in shadow, a barely visible dark mass against the dark sky.

Sophie (the kitten) has been home for a while. She seems to remember me – she loves everyone, but at night she comes to sleep in my bed. I have been the one to feed her in the morning, because she wakes me up. I sometimes wish she wouldn't, especially after such late nights as I've been having, but I seem to get by fine on little sleep (probably thanks to the materia). She followed me out of the window, and I was afraid she would fall in between the steps, but she is very agile. She likes to ride on peoples' shoulders; a cute habit, except for the claws...

So, here we sit, me writing, and Sophie making quiet chattering noises back at the bats. The stars are beautiful, and it's so warm out that if it weren't so filthy I would stay and sleep out here. That would be a terrible idea for so many reasons... Clouds are starting to move in and cover the stars, but I'm reluctant to go back inside. There's a certain sense of freedom up here... But it's starting to rain. I guess I _have_ to go inside now. What a bother...

As soon as I got in it started to really pour. I realize just how dirty it is outside now – the bottoms of my feet are quite black, and so is the bottom of my pajamas. I hope it doesn't stain... Sophie is cleaning her own feet off with her little pink tongue; it can't be healthy for her to be licking that up! I'll try not to let her outside again, except on my shoulders. I have a feeling that she could get poisoned from too much exposure to the years of smog that have accumulated in dust form on the rooftop. It's sad, really.

The rain is soothing, and it's falling so hard that there's nothing to look at out the window anymore. I've been writing about nothing for half an hour now; I should try to sleep instead. I must be tired – I feel sad all of a sudden. No, not all of a sudden – it's been coming on gradually, since I got back here. All the work we've done, all the effort we've put into it and all the danger we've put ourselves into have done nothing but aggravate the situation. It's as if we tried to make a rash stop itching by scratching it harder. It seems like for every wonderful person, for every Tifa who takes in orphans (of all ages!) and cares for them, there are a hundred other people who care only about themselves, fifty of whom don't care who they hurt or how much they hurt them in order to get what they want. At age nine I lost faith in humanity; by age nineteen I had forgotten what humanity really was, until I met the people who are now my only friends. They restored my faith and hope, and now I feel as if I've lost it again. I was touched once by the hope I saw in the people here – but now people have turned away from real hope, and they pay money to short-circuit their brain with snowfire, to create the illusion that they are happy. They become desperate for more, because they have forgotten how to really enjoy anything without it. Snowfire consumes all their money, and eventually it consumes them, and the gangsters get rich at their expense. And here we are; we saved the world from ancient, malevolent forces – some of us have saved it twice now – and yet faced with nothing more than human faults, we are helpless.

I don't understand people at all. I don't understand people, and I don't understand the world they have created for themselves. I want to crawl back into my shell and give up...

But I won't, and I can't, because I am surrounded by the best role models possible. "Avalanche" never gave up, even when they were up against the end of life itself. Vincent never gave up against Omega, even though he knew the duty he had to perform might destroy him. He would have given himself to save the world, just as Aerith did. Cloud didn't give up either, even though Sephiroth was tearing him apart from the inside out – and Tifa didn't give up on him. Despair is an entirely foreign concept to Yuffie, and I doubt the idea of giving up has crossed the minds of Cid or Barret. Even the children have something to teach me. Marlene is much too smart for her age, and stubborn to go with it; her vocabulary may be advanced for a seven-year-old, but "giving up" isn't in it. Denzel's determination is second to none.

Yes, life is depressing and I don't understand it, but since when did that stop me? I was a Tsviet, after all.

_...phew. So... sorry for the lack of plot there. The next one will be a little more light-hearted, and things will actually happen, I think. I need to start planning ahead a little more O.O Anyway, stay tuned! :D_


	8. Chapter 8

_Okay, so... Yeah. Stuff. I'm really smart today. **FFVII is owned by Square Penix** (see what I did there? I AM SO MATURE heehee)_

I've had the same dream several nights in a row, now. Thankfully, it is more optimistic than the old one – but still frightening, somehow. It begins at the foot of the old ShinRa tower; saplings spring up out of the ground all around it. They begin as tiny sprouts, yet strong enough to fling concrete out of their way as they push their way up and break through. They grow quickly, and begin climbing like vines all over the tower. The vines grow and grow, and sprout tiny green leaves. There is a sense of exultation in the air as they put forth sweet-scented blossoms; the blossoms go to seed, and the wind scatters them. The vines engulf the tower, so that no trace of the old building remains – only a giant tree made up of many trees intertwined, and I know without seeing that the building is rusting and crumbling inside that tree, but that it will never break down completely. The tree's branches are now covered in broad leaves of a rich dark green, and they reach out in all directions over the ruins of Midgar. The leaves change color, from green to a pale golden yellow, and drop from the branches. They scatter all over the old city, and slowly they turn brown and disappear into the ground. The tree, now bare, towers over the city like a monument, silhouetted against a pale gray sky. It is so massive that I am frightened of it, and I am frightened of its skeletal appearance. It seems to radiate a feeling of strength, neither good nor evil, but malevolent towards those who would wish it ill. It is as if the tree is sentient, and I feel that it senses my presence as a watcher. I am frightened and I want to run away, but I am deep in the Midgar ruins and I feel that I cannot escape. The tree seems to grow in power, and I feel as if something is being summoned. Just when I think something dreadful is about to come out of the shadows to destroy me as an intruder, there is a tingling feeling in the air and tiny leaves begin to grow on the tree's branches again. There is a cracking sound from all around me, and I am suddenly on a cliff overlooking the city, where I can see that hundreds of new saplings are springing up from the seeds the first tree had scattered. Soon the old city is a carpet of green leaves and blossoms, and the old tree is no longer forbidding and skeletal, but sends out a feeling of joy – it never meant me any harm; I was simply afraid of its size and power. Although I have had the dream many times now, and recognize it for what it is, yet I can never wake up from it until the end.

I went to see the doctor who insterted my materia for a sort of follow-up. Cloud had some deliveries in the area, so he gave me a lift on Fenrir. That was exhilarating...! I felt like I was flying, even though we were on the ground. I wish I could learn how to drive it – Cloud showed me the basics, but my feet couldn't quite touch the pedals.

Anyway, the doctor told me that Yuffie chose a "Regenerate" materia to put inside my body. I couldn't make out a thing on the screen, but according to the doctor, the ultrasound showed that the materia has fully fused with my body. She doesn't know what this means, or what it will do – she doubts it can regenerate what has been completely removed, unless there is a cell or two left for it to start with, and DeepGround was nothing if not thorough. Most likely, nothing will happen, except that if I hurt myself I will heal very quickly. She says to keep eating well and getting an appropriate amount of exercise – just as any person ought to. I am to check back in six months, and to contact her if anything unusual happens in the meantime.

Cloud and Tifa came to pick me up afterwards; on the way out, the clerk at the front desk, an elderly lady, gave me a lollipop "for being such a good girl." That was already funny – but then, she turned to Tifa with a knowing look and said, "what a pretty daughter you have. She has her father's eyes," she added with a pointed look at Cloud. Cloud and I turned beet red, while Tifa was too busy holding back laughter to offer an explanation. The clerk beamed at us and we smiled cautiously and got out of there. The minute we were outside we all collapsed with laughter. I know I look young – but I don't know what made that lady think Cloud and Tifa were old enough to be my parents! It's technically possible, but not likely! She obviously doesn't know mako eyes when she sees them, either... Maybe she just didn't wear her glasses today.

Sophie met Cait Sith for the first time today. She was very alarmed. When Reeve walked in with the robotic cat in tow, all the hair on her back and tail stood on end. She arched her back, and backed away slowly with eyes as wide as saucers. She hissed when Cait Sith looked her way, and kept on backing up until she collided with the leg of the couch. This was so startling that she ran away upstairs and has yet to come down.

Reeve says that we – all of us, not just Yuffie and I – will have to attend a meeting a few days from now to discuss the situation in Midgar. For security reasons, it will be in Junon; Cid will be flying us all there, while another pilot flies a decoy airship. Rufus and two Turks will be flying with us. All these security measures make me nervous – I don't like the fact that they might be necessary. I have an unpleasant feeling that much more is going on than Yuffie and I have been briefed on...

We will be leaving for Junon the day after tomorrow. This will be the first time I have left Midgar! I'm excited, even though what we are going there to do may be unpleasant. One of the hired bartenders will be paid a little extra to feed Sophie while we are away; I'm sure it will be stressful for her with all her people gone, poor thing. Tomorrow will be busy with packing, so I think I will head to bed a little early. I've been strangely clumsy today; I should make sure I get enough rest.

...

Well... So much for the doctor's hypothesis.

I woke up later than usual this morning and didn't notice anything unusual right away, but getting out of bed felt strange. I was even clumsier than the day before; it seemed like my feet hit the ground a little sooner than I expected them to. I stood up, and something just wasn't right, and I couldn't put my finger on what. I wondered if I was sick, or going crazy, until I looked in the full-length mirror in the bathroom and nearly screamed.

My legs have grown, just enough to make a noticeable difference. I don't think this is normal; I would have noticed it if Marlene and Denzel grew this quickly. It has to be the materia, somehow. I'm a full inch taller, maybe more, and it's all leg.

I threw some clothes on and headed downstairs, but I got ahead of myself and tripped over my feet. I think they are a little bigger, too. I stumbled down the last few stairs to find everyone staring. I stood up to my full height, embarrassed at my fall and also at the obvious difference in my construction.

"I... I think I grew a little."

Yuffie jumped up and ran across the room squealing to give me a hug.

"I _knew _it! I _knew _this would happen! This is so _exciting! _ My little pal's growing up! Oh man, we need to get you some clothes. _Right now._ Vince, you're coming." She grabbed my hand and started pulling me towards the door.

Vincent looked alarmed. "Why?"

Yuffie cocked her head to one side and batted her eyelashes. "C'mon, _please? _It'll be fun."

Vincent looked disgruntled.

"You'd better do it, Vincent. Trust me. You'll get in trouble," said Cloud. Tifa smacked him in the back of the head.

Vincent grunted. "I guess I have no choice."

"That's the spirit! Now let's go." Yuffie sprang out the door, dragging me behind her.

We went to several places. I haven't really developed a taste for clothing yet, so Yuffie did most of the choosing. Vincent looked terribly bored, but it was probably a good thing he was there, because he made sure that Yuffie actually _bought _the items. It would be remarkably easy to shoplift clothing! It must happen quite often.

I washed all the new clothes, and they should be almost dry, so I'll be able to pack some of them for the trip to Junon. It's not clear how long we will be there, so we're packing several days' worth. It all depends on how the meeting goes. Rufus and Reeve has insisted that we all take a day to relax before we even have the meeting, so that our heads will be clear and we won't be stressed. I appreciate the chance to explore the town a little, since I've never been out of Midgar before...! I'm excited to see the ocean for the first time. Yuffie insisted we get a swimsuit, so I'm guessing that means there's a beach – it's not like a swimsuit will be of any use in Edge!

It's getting late – I should get packing and get to bed; we'll be leaving very early in the morning...

_LOL, growth spurt! ^_^ And things are gonna get exciting. Yep yep yep._


	9. Chapter 9

_Hi everybody! Sorry for another looooong wait; I kinda had to take a minute to figure out where the hell the plot went. Heheh. Anyway. Whoever spots the Star Wars reference gets an imaginary cookie! ^_^ **I don't own FF7 blah blah disclaimer blah fart blah. **CAUTION: Contains Cid's vocabulary. :D_

Being on the airship brought back some strange memories. The last time I was here, I was too confused to be afraid – but I feel afraid, somehow, looking back. I realize now just how vulnerable I was, and that was not all that long ago! I've grown so much since then – ha! That's true in more ways than one, isn't it...

In any case, I shoved those memories aside pretty quickly. Since I'm here under happier circumstances, why not actually enjoy the experience? I've spent a long time out on the deck, enjoying the wind rushing past, and the mingled smells of fresh air and oil from the powerful machinery. Looking down makes me giddy – but looking up makes me gidder, somehow, to see the sky and realize that to someone on the ground, I am _in_ the sky. It's a very clear day, with hardly any cloud, so that from the ground the sky looked like a blue bowl covering the earth from horizon to horizon... Strange to think that mere months ago, I wouldn't have been able to make an observation like that: not only had I not seen the sky in years, but I was trained to be cold and logical. The very idea of saying "the sky looks like a bowl tipped over the surface of the earth" while knowing full well that the planet is round is completely preposterous from a strictly rational point of view. Being able to let go of that and see things abstractly is... liberating. It's a little frightening to let go and let my imagination take over, but if I can trust this machine to stay in the air, then I can trust my mind to have a little fun.

Poor Yuffie is stationed in the hallway (where there is less motion, since it's in the middle of the ship) with a bucket, poor thing. I had expected her to be making the most of the situation and hanging over the edge of the balcony, vomiting on unsuspecting villagers... I suspect that Rufus and his bodyguards are not overly fond of flying either, as they are nowhere to be seen. They probably have rooms on the ship somewhere.

...

We are less than an hour away from Junon now; the nice weather didn't last long. I was standing on the deck, watching small, fluffy clouds start to appear below and around us, when a familiar voice rumbled from the doorway behind me: "You're even taller than you were yesterday." I turned around, knowing already what I would see – a tall, handsome figure in a cape the color my face was turning: crimson. I looked at the floor, partly to hide my reddening cheeks and partly to avoid meeting those red eyes and seeing the smirk I knew was there. While I was collecting myself enough to form a coherent sentence, Vincent spoke again.

"Our intrepid captain says we're heading for a large mass of cloud. You'd better come inside; things will be getting bumpy."

As we headed inside, I started to laugh; I couldn't help it. Vincent gave me a questioning look.

"I was just thinking," I explained, "about what Tifa might think about a large mass of Cloud and things getting bumpy."

Grinning at the look on Vincent's face, I skipped away towards a window and looked out at the sky. Unfocusing my eyes, I saw Vincent's reflection in the glass. He watched me for a second, then shook his head and stalked away.

"Hmph. Sounds like your legs aren't all that's growing."

Sure enough, things got bumpy – but not very bumpy, at least not at first. Beyond that first cloud bank, however, was an unforseen thunderstorm. Cid was not pleased, and was especially annoyed that the weather report had failed to predict what they were running into.

"Shit! Goddamn fatheads couldn't forecast their way out of a pig's arsehole," he fumed. "Too late to take evasive action; we're goin' in!"

The head crew member was horrified. "But, _sir!_" I got the sense that he had never flown during a storm before.

"Suck it up! I didn't train you to be a ball-sack, so don't act like one. Besides, it's too goddamn late. If we try to swerve now, we'll get off course and off balance and we _still_ won't make it out of the way in time. It's just a damn thunderstorm, anyway! The ship's been through worse shit than this. She'll hold together." Cid glanced behind him towards the engine room. "You hear me, baby? Hold together!"

I was transfixed by the view out the window; it was an intimidating sight, but I couldn't look away. A thunderstorm viewed head-on is a formidable thing. The mountainous pile of cloud seemed to have a life of its own, a seething mass of raw, natural power that reminded me eerily of the giant tree in my dreams. I watched, wide-eyed, as we drew closer and closer, and instinctively stepped back from the window as we plunged into the clouds.

_Then_ things got bumpy.

It's still bumpy, as a matter of fact, and severely so. After several minutes, Reeve became similarly afflicted to Yuffie. Cid noticed his discomfort, and rather unsympathetically directed him "not to puke on (Cid's) damn bridge," as he is a sympathetic vomiter. I suggested the hallway; I hope Yuffie doesn't mind the company. In the meantime, I'll take a break, since I'm getting jolted around enough to make it difficult to write... I have to admit, I'm getting a little nervous, and the constant ups and downs and sideways wiggles are not sitting well with my stomach, either.

...

After a stressful remainder of the flight, we landed in Junon much later than planned and in pouring rain; it is coming down so hard that we all got drenched simply loading our possessions into Rufus ShinRa's vehicle. So much for seeing the town... We're being put up in an extravagant penthouse that Rufus owns here; normally it would have a pleasant view of the town, but all that is visible is gray; it might as well be Midgar. The air is considerably cleaner, but one can't tell from inside. The President – former President? I'm not actually clear if the ShinRa corporation even exists anymore as such – has shown us incredible hospitality, but unfortunately we are a cold, wet and generally gloomy bunch. The others have bounced back, more or less; Rufus has installed an old-fashioned wood-burning fireplace in the living room, and he has been entertaining the company by explaining his recent deeds in restoring the town. It seems he has invested a great deal of time, effort and money into Junon, and although his exploits are surely noble, I couldn't focus on the conversation. I seem to have become tired and irritable, in spite of my previous energy, so I excused myself and went to bed early... Not that I'm able to sleep, but I really wasn't contributing to the atmosphere.

I should rest up for the meeting tomorrow. I'll need to be alert; I am dreading what I might learn, about the situation and also about what is left of the corporation and its involvement with all of this. It's all very disturbing and it will be difficult to get it out of my head long enough to sleep... Even if I do, it will likely be replaced with visions of storm clouds and the vastness of the sky. When I close my eyes, I feel like I'm still moving.

_Sooo... The plot didn't really thicken in this one. In fact not very much happened. But I **swear** I'll have the next one up soon, really really really! Promise! Thanks for bearing with me, hope the filler is at least a little entertaining... :/_


	10. Chapter 10

_Hey, guys. So, I totally fail at updating... :/ Thanks for all the positive feedback so far! I've got some things figured out now so the whole adding-new-chapters-in-a-timely-fashion business should go a little more smoothly. **Don't sue me, I don't own no copyrights and I ain't tryin' to make money off this. **(Though I sure could use some...)_

Sure enough, the same old dream. The last time this happened, something changed and it took on a new significance, before going away entirely. I wonder what will happen with this one. Is it a representation of some internal fear I have yet to acknowledge?...

Anyway, it is gloriously sunny today, and much warmer than it was in Midgar. Before falling asleep, I heard that the meeting would be postponed until evening today, so we will have the rest of the day to enjoy the change of scenery. I'm up before anybody else (since I went to sleep before anybody else, I suppose), and... I've grown again. _Again._ If this keeps up, I will need new shoes before long; my feet are definitely a little bigger. Luckily, we got everything with a little extra room... I think I'm taller as well, and my arms are longer, and that's not all... I hope the bathing-suit Yuffie bought still fits.

The President is awake! He is up – without his bodyguards, surprisingly – and heading for the kitchen. I suppose I should act friendly, but I'm really not sure how to behave around him... ShinRa has a lot to answer for, and so looking at the man makes me feel strange; a part of me really wants to hate him, and yet I know I ought not to blame him for the great harm that corporation has done – it was his father's actions, and those of the scientist Hojo, that nearly caused the destruction of this world. My lost childhood was avenged when Vincent avenged his lost humanity.

A word of advice comes to mind, one that I heard Cloud mention to Denzel. He said that courage is not a lack of fear, but the ability to act in spite of that fear. I suppose it was meant in the context of dragons, or stage fright, or confronting schoolyard bullies – but since the idea of talking to Rufus ShinRa feels like a combination of all of them, I think it applies nicely.

...

Gods, what a day. Everything has been shaken up like a snowglobe, and I'm not convinced I know up from down anymore, let alone left from right (which I have some trouble getting to begin with – I can only remember because I write with my left hand)... I had better start where I left off.

Surprising revelation number one: Rufus ShinRa is not a monster. It was early in the morning when I was awake and writing, and he came into the kitchen not long afterwards and started making coffee. Not even his bodyguard Turks, Rude and Reno, were awake. No sooner had I put my book down, when he started speaking to me, and in such a friendly manner that I was quite caught off guard.

"Good morning," he said, smiling. "You're Shelke, is that right?"

I nodded, trying not to look surprised. "That's right. Good morning, sir."

"Just Rufus, please. Would you like some coffee?"

"Yes, please... Rufus. Thank you." I had only just broken my habit of addressing people formally, and of all the people to address _in_formally... "Counterintuitive" barely covers it.

We sat in amiable silence until the coffee was made, and then Rufus showed me something that I will freely admit won my heart over completely. He asked if I took milk or sugar in my coffee, to which I responded that I liked a little of both. He nodded, with an oddly satisfied expression on his face. At first I was confused when he opened the freezer; it seemed to me that he was looking for milk and sugar in all the wrong places – until he brought out both at once in the form of vanilla ice cream.

"This is how I take _my_ coffee. Would you like to try it?"

I didn't think to ask if he invented the idea or not, as I was too busy enjoying it – but if he did come up with putting ice cream in coffee on his own, I might just fall in love with him.

Moving on; as we were sipping said beverage, which was amazing, Reno and Rude came rushing out of their room, looking rumpled and thoroughly embarrassed at having left their boss alone with me; it has been obvious from the start that the Turks do not fully trust our little group yet – in spite of its various members having worked together to save the world two or three times now. Their expressions changed to alarm as they saw us sipping coffee together as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.

"Sir! ...what..." the two agents looked at each other, then at Rufus, then at me, then at each other again, their mouths gaping like fish. They obviously felt they had failed to do their job.

Rufus serenely raised a hand and the Turks grew quiet, looking defeated.

"You are forgetting that this girl, and the former members of Avalanche who have taken her into their company, are now on our side. They are our allies – our friends, even, and as such, they must trust us. And, if we are to expect this of them, then they must first be assured of _our_ trust in _them_."

Reno and Rude looked at the ground and shuffled their feet, looking so much like chastened children that I had to resist an impulse to jump up and hug both of them.

"Now," Rufus continued, "at ease, gentlemen. Coffee is on the stove."

I thought Weiss had charisma – but then again, I never actually met him in person. But, a very particular sort of leadership is wanted when those being led are tortured, at the edge of sanity, and bred to kill. Rufus' quiet strength and determination – he still walks with a cane, but insists on walking – are incredibly moving. That was only the beginning of what I saw of it today.

Thankfully, it was not long before the others got up. Once everyone was awake and fed, we went on a tour of Junon. Although I have never been here before, my understanding is that the town has picked itself up immensely since Meteorfall. We saw the old underwater Mako reactor, which has been shut down; it is undergoing renovations now, to be made into a museum. It is certainly a spectacular work of architecture! It was a strange feeling to walk through the glass corridor and see ocean surrounding me, with fishes swimming by. A large water-mill has been built to replace it as a power source, and supplies all the electricity for Lower Junon, as the slums have come to be called. Upper Junon, on top of a plate much like Midgar, gets its power from windmills, their design based on the windmills of Cosmo Canyon.

The original slums were almost entirely wiped out by Weapon; rather than rebuilding them under the plate's shadow, a committee of locals decided to migrate, and rebuilt their homes in an area beside the coast, about a mile away from Junon's main structure. Rufus, who spent most of his time as vice-president living in Junon, supported their decision and funded their building project. He also personally funded the building of the wind- and water-mills to replace the mako reactor. I don't know how Midgar has been getting electricity these days. I should ask. It can't be mako – if it were still being drained from the earth, then that park, the one green place in Edge, couldn't possibly have grown up... This is another question for another day; too much is going on now.

In any case, I was impressed, and the rest of the group seemed to be won over. We spent some time at a newly opened beach, a completely novel experience for me, and for Junon. There has not been a beach in the area for many years, as the water was mako-contaminated and unsafe for swimming. Even now, bathers are advised not to swim more than fifteen minutes at a time. I don't know how to swim properly, and the water was frightfully cold, and so I only waded in waist-deep – that is, until a large wave knocked me over and carried me to shore. That was so much fun that I went back in again, and let the ocean toss me around until I started shivering and had to warm up in the sun. This allowed me to test my materia's capacity for preventing sunburn. I suppose it was a success – I didn't get burned, but neither did I get any darker. It seems I am fated to remain unfashionably pale, but at least I'm not the only one – and at least I'm not _quite_ as pale as Vincent. I must admit, the sight of him in nothing but swim trunks and sunglasses caused me to momentarily collapse with laughter; it was so out of character that my mind couldn't handle it. Having recovered, however, it was difficult to keep my eyes from rolling up and down him. Very little was left to the imagination, and as my imagination is particularly vivid (and supplemented by the memories of a woman who saw everything), I probably blushed enough to make up for any lack of sunburn on my face. I curse DeepGround with all my heart for putting that woman into my head; one of these days I will make a complete fool of myself, and it will be Lucrecia's fault. I cannot help but wonder if she does it on purpose, but from what I know – and I know quite a bit! – she never had that kind of a sense of humor. Or much of a sense of humor at all, in fact, the poor dear.

Rufus insisted that we have a hearty supper; as he put it, "strategizing on an empty stomach is like trying to make water hold still by putting your hand on it: it simply doesn't work." He took us to a restaurant, whose menu itself was a sign of Junon's triumph: it was almost exclusively seafood. Until Rufus' reforms, particularly the shutting down of the underwater reactor, Junon's waters had been contaminated to the point where seafood was toxic and unsafe to eat. Now, except for an area of about two square miles surrounding the reactor, fishing was permitted again, and while the results were quite expensive and had to be thoroughly tested and inspected, fishing was once again becoming part of Junon's economy. Cid got very excited at a particular creature on the menu – I cannot remember what it is called, which is unfortunate, because I _must_ eat it again. It is a large crustacean, which is boiled alive (it sounds brutal, but supposedly death comes quickly to the poor creatures) and then served. To eat it, one is required to crack the shell open with a crunching device that is hard to describe; then the meat is extracted by means of a long, tiny fork and dipped in melted butter. It is the messiest, most brutal, and by far the most exquisite thing I have ever eaten. It was such an experience that I almost wasn't embarrassed to look across the table and see Vincent and Rufus smirking at me while butter dripped down my chin. Following Cid's instructions, I managed to extract every last scrap of meat from the poor creature, and although we were advised by the waiter not to eat the beast's creamy green insides (due to trace amounts of mako), Cid did so anyway, insisting that it was a delicacy not to be passed up. I concluded that a little mako never hurt anybody who was pumped full of it on a daily basis anyway, and so I ate it all – much to Yuffie's horror. ("Oh, _grossness!_ You're not actually going to eat it's _guts,_ are you? Ohmigawd she's eating it – oh, _eww! _ Vince, I can't look...") I have no regrets. It tasted just like the smell of the ocean, and if I can win at gross-out against Yuffie, then I am truly a champion.

Having recovered from dinner, we were whisked away to a new building, a replacement for the one damaged by Weapon. We were escorted to an office on the top floor, where we were met by Tseng and a couple of other Turks who I did not recognize. We all sat down, and I immediately grew anxious as I saw the tension contained beneath Tseng's calm exterior.

Tseng cleared his throat. "We have uncovered important intelligence regarding the Midgar mob. It seems Don Corneo fathered several sons..."

Yuffie snorted and rolled her eyes. "Gee, d'ya think?"

Tseng shot her a warning glance, which she ignored. He continued.

"He has probably sired more children than we are specifically aware of. However, these four sons in particular are about the same age, and all of them are vying for the urban supremacy their father had. Each one considers himself to be the rightful heir to Corneo's dominion. This is at the root of the inter-gang violence in Edge, drugs being their primary weapon to manipulate the masses in their favor.

Naturally, what to do about this situation will take some careful planning. However, there is another development where more immediate action is possible – and required. We have found the location of the biggest snowfire manufacturing still. It has been built in a remote location, with very limited accessibility; however, we believe it to be the source of all the snowfire that makes it into Edge. We are currently investigating the drug's presence in other cities, if indeed it has a presence there."

Cloud fidgeted impatiently. It was clear he was bored with discussion, and itching for real action. "Where is the still?"

Tseng looked nervously down at his papers, then back up – at Vincent. "You won't like this, Valentine. The snowfire business is operating from the cave where the Protomateria was first discovered."

_Aaaand a nice juicy cliffhanger, just to show that there really is an actual plot now and I intend to develop it. Hooray! :D I'll try not to leave y'all hanging too long, but you know me. :P_


	11. Chapter 11

_Here's the next bit. Things are gonna get heavy... **Caution: **if you are easily offended by Cid and Barret's usual choice of words... well, suck it up. It's rated T for a reason. :P But seriously, some dramatic stuff is going to happen so if you think I should change the rating lemme know._

Vincent's claws made grooves in the table as he slowly clenched his fist in rage. All eyes were on him, many of them filled with fear – even my own. It had been a long time since I saw him enraged like this, and even then, it had not been from so close a vantage point. His face showed little expression, but his nostrils flared and his eyes were filled with fire. His jaw was clenched. The tension in the room was palpable, as if his anger and outrage were radiating outward in waves. Yuffie's eyes were wide – I had never seen her look so afraid. She tentatively reached out a hand to place comfortingly on his arm, but when she touched him he growled. She pulled her hand away quickly, and her eyes filled with tears. Seeing the bewilderment on her face, I realized that she really didn't understand him. I could see, as she did not, that this was an injury only Vincent could tend to. His growl was not a rejection, it was a warning: he did not want to be touched because he did not want anyone to get in his way – especially not one he cared for, one he did not want to see come to harm.

Cloud spoke first.

"What's the plan?"

Tseng shuffled his papers nervously. "The element of surprise is essential, as they may be in direct contact with someone in Midgar. We cannot allow them to send out a warning before they are wiped out. Is that understood?"

A muted wave of assent rippled around the table.

"Good. Our plan is this: we will travel to the cave by submarine – except for Shelke and Yuffie. Shelke, we will need you to use your invisibility to sneak into the cave by land and create a distraction. Disable their machinery if you can. Yuffie, while they are preoccupied, steal their weapons. When you two give the signal, Vincent will come in from the submarine and finish the job. The rest of us will accompany Vincent as backup, should he need it. Are there any questions?"

The table was silent. The plan was unnecessarily complicated – if the set-up was as simple as Tseng made it sound, Yuffie and I could probably kill all of them ourselves, neatly and quietly. But nobody could deny how unfair it would be to leave Vincent out of this. The location of the snowfire operation was a direct injury to him, an injury that I felt keenly myself. Their defilement of Lucrecia Crescent's resting place was a re-opening of every wound he had; to keep him out of the mission would be like dunking him in salt. It seemed that everyone at the table understood this.

Vincent spoke for the first time since the meeting began.

"_When do we leave?_" All eyes turned on him in alarm. His voice was different, more powerful, more menacing. I could not quite define how, until I realized that it was underlaid with three other voices, those of the beings "added" to him by Hojo. His inner demons, in a very literal sense, were dangerously close to the surface, so close that the overtones of their voices blended with his.

Chaos, the most powerful of them, had served Its destined purpose and returned to the planet. This is perhaps for the best, since Chaos would likely be enraged beyond control by this infringement on what was effectively Its own birthplace. But Its absence makes me more frightened, not less, for at least I was relatively familiar with Chaos. I have seen It firsthand, and in some ways It had become closely bonded with Vincent's own personality. I cannot say that of any of his other demons. I should not be afraid, really – it's not as if I'm not familiar with monsters. I am; I grew up surrounded by them, if you recall. I think what frightens me is that monsters I don't know, and more importantly monsters _who don't know me,_ are lurking inside of a man whom I have come to see as a comforting figure. Chaos knew me, in a way, because Chaos was connected with Lucrecia; because he was controlled by the proto-materia, I felt safe. But the rest of them – I don't _trust_ them. Perhaps the Galian Beast has some animal instinct that will discern friend from foe, but what of the Death Gigas, or worse, Hellmasker? How can I know that Vincent actually has control over them? I am afraid of what he might become, and of what the thing he becomes will do.

Tseng remained calm, as he was thoroughly trained to do. "We mobilize at dawn tomorrow morning. Cloud, Tifa, Barret – you will accompany Vincent, me and other ShinRa personnel by submarine. Cid, you will be flying Shelke, Yuffie and Reeve to the foot of the mountains. There you will be met by a guide, who will provide you with chocobos and accompany you the rest of the way. Everyone must stay in touch by PDA. Is that understood?"

Everyone mumbled assent, except for Yuffie.

"Aw, man, and just when I was recovering from my last ride on that stupid airship..." She stuck her tongue out childishly at Cid.

"You gonna fly there on a fuckin' broomstick instead, toots?" Cid retorted, gnawing on his cigar.

Yuffie snarled and clenched her fists. "Why, I oughtta..."

"_If_ there are no further questions," Reeve interrupted, giving Yuffie a stern look, "I think we should all begin preparations for tomorrow. It is vital that all of us get enough rest."

Tseng nodded and stood up. "The meeting is adjourned. The submarine party will meet up just outside the Reactor Museum at 0500, just before dawn. Everyone else, meet at the airship, same time."

Vincent stood up first, gave Tseng a stern nod in acknowledgement, made brief eye contact with Reeve, as if exchanging some wordless communication, then swept out of the room. Everyone else rose and began to move out; Yuffie stood still for a moment, gazing at the doorway from which Vincent had left. I came up next to her and took her hand, realizing suddenly that my head almost reaches her shoulder now.

"Yuffie – he's not himself right now. Try to understand..."

Yuffie looked down at me, and the look on her face showed that her mind was somewhere else. She knew that I was standing there, and that I had said something, but she hadn't heard me and she wasn't seeing me, either. Lost in thought, she pulled away and left the room.

Barret stood next to me as I watched Yuffie walk away. He is more observant than I've ever given him credit for.

"Poor little idiot. Vincent's past is probably haunting the shit out of him right now, and she can't figure out why he doesn't wanna talk about it." He shook his head. "She knows what the hell happened. Even _I_ can dig what that cave means to him. She knows he's full of spooks, too; she's known that all along. Damn, man, I figured being half human and half Whatever-The-Fuck was part of his goddamn sex appeal. She's no wuss; she fought alongside us, brave as hell, all this time, and now she can't deal with a moody boyfriend? Shit. She's worse than Tifa."

I sighed. "Vincent... isn't the most communicative man," I said carefully. "It may be that she thought he was finally over everything, that she had healed him, just like that. Maybe it seemed that way on the surface, and she wanted to believe it badly enough that she really _did_ believe it. Now his demons are taking over, and I don't think she understands the danger. Vincent is very mentally unstable right now. The other parts of his personality, the beings placed in him by Hojo, are very close to the surface, and you've seen firsthand what they can do. He is probably fighting as hard as he can to keep them contained right now, and he doesn't want anyone around – least of all her, who he cares about the most. If his rage were to take over and she were to come to harm, he would never forgive himself."

Barret nodded slowly. "I get it – and of course our Mister Valentine would never manage to string that many words together under the best of circumstances, let alone now when he's struggling just to stay human. So he can't explain himself, and she can't figure him out. Damn..." He shook his head again. "Women. It guess it takes one to know one," he said, and ruffled my hair with his massive hand before lumbering away.

We got back to the penthouse around 9; the sun had set, but some traces of light remained around the horizon. Vincent had gone ahead of us on foot, and was already there, out on the balcony. Nobody questioned how he got there – this was not the time to cross him. Rufus looked concerned, and asked if someone should invite him in.

Tifa shook her head. "He's under a lot of strain. It's better that we leave him alone for now."

Cloud chuckled. "Besides, if you invite a vampire into your house once, they can come back and bite you anytime."

Tifa frowned. "Oh, Cloud, don't be mean."

"Come on, I was just trying to make light of the situation. Besides, we all know he's not _really _a vampire..."

Cid smirked. "Heh. 'Cause he's really a werewolf. Galian Beast, anybody?"

"Exactly my point."

Tifa put her hands on her hips. "Oh, _really!_ You two stop it before I come over there and knock your heads together!"

"Yes'm," said Cid meekly, while Cloud looked like a scolded child. They slunk off towards their quarters, but shared a grin and a high-five as they parted ways, ducking just in time to avoid a couch pillow thrown by Tifa.

After everyone had gone to bed, I came back out to check on Vincent. Invisible, I watched him through the screen door. He sat perched like a gargoyle at the edge of the balcony. His eyes were closed in concentration. I didn't hear Yuffie's footsteps until she was right behind me, and I rolled out of the way just in time. Vincent's eyes flashed open as she quietly opened the door. Treading silently, I followed her out onto the balcony as she approached him.

"Vince?" She knelt down beside him. "Are you okay?" She reached out a hand towards him and he took it without looking at her.

"Yuffie... I need to be alone." He gave her hand a quick squeeze and then released it.

I'm still not sure what part of "I need to be alone" Yuffie failed to understand, but she was very persistent in failing to understand it.

"You can talk to me, Vinny," she said coaxingly, reaching out to brush a lock of hair back from his face.

Vincent shook his head in exasperation. "Not... right now." His voice sounded strained. He looked up at Yuffie, his face full of pain. "Please, Yuffie. I...just..._I need to be alone_." A faint hint of another voice was creeping into his own, and he looked away abruptly, back at the ground, his eyes full of alarm. He was afraid of himself; it was plain to see, and yet Yuffie couldn't seem to see it. Her voice grew quieter.

"Can you not tell me... because it's about _her?_" Vincent curled up into a ball.

"_Please,_" two voices said, and a third, more sinister one crept in. "_Leave me alone!_"

Yuffie stood up, looking hurt.

"Fine," she said petulantly, like an angry child. "Just sit there and listen to your demons growling, and mope and shut everyone away and go 'boo-hoo-hoo, memories of Lucrecia, boo-hoo.' You're forgetting something, Vincent. You're forgetting that I'm here. We're _all_ here, and we're all going to go kick their asses tomorrow, and _I love you._" Her eyes filled up with tears, which she brushed away with the back of her hand. "Don't push me away, Vince. Please..."

Vincent was trembling, clenched into a ball like a defensive hedgehog. A small whimper escaped him as he fought to keep his demons down; the heightened emotion of Yuffie's presence, of having inadvertently hurt her feelings and being unable to explain himself were making matters worse. I wished I could reveal myself, explain everything and defuse the situation, but I had a feeling that I would only cause an explosion. The air around Vincent began to shimmer, as if he were sending off heat waves.

"Yuffie, please..." It was Vincent's own voice, but it was shaky. "I...I'm sorry. Please, leave now. I..." He gasped briefly as if in pain. "_I don't want to hurt you._" The second voice was back, and this time Yuffie could hear it clearly. Her face went pale, her eyes wide with fear. She slowly backed away.

"Vincent..."

"_Just Go!_" four voices boomed. Yuffie burst into tears and ran inside, leaving the door open behind her. Vincent crouched on all fours, quivering. For a second, his form flickered out of sight; Death Gigas took its place, let out a growl of rage and punched a dent in the pavement of the balcony. Then it disappeared and Vincent returned. Slowly he stopped shaking and gathered himself up into a fetal position, resting against the wall. Visibly exhausted, he wrapped himself up in his cloak and hid his face against his knees. I wanted so badly to comfort him, but I knew there was nothing I could do. So I sat, silently, watching, wishing I could help somehow.

His shoulders trembled, and he sobbed quietly several times, until finally his breathing grew even, and finally I sensed that he was asleep. I stood up, and tiptoed inside, silently closing the door shut behind me.

The light was still on in Yuffie's room; I tapped gently on the door and pushed it open. She was sitting on the bed and had clearly been crying. She looked at me crossly; it was obvious she didn't want to talk to anyone. I looked at the floor apologetically.

"Yuffie... I think I can explain why Vincent's acting this way."

Yuffie looked even more annoyed. "What the hell do you know about it? Leave me alone!"

I shuffled my feet a little. "Listen... I... I was there on the balcony with my invisibility on, and-"

"You eavesdropping little twerp! That was none of your-"

"_Listen! _ I said I could explain why he's acting this way. I _know _him. You don't understand what he's going through."

"What, just because those freaks from DeepGround put that dead bitch in your head you think you know everything about him?"

"Yes. That's exactly what I'm implying."

"_Get The Hell Out Of My Room!_" Yuffie seized the box of tissues next to her and hurled it at me. I deftly caught it in one hand and shut the door behind me as I left. I left my own door ajar and set to work writing.

A few minutes later, Yuffie tapped on the door and came in, looking defeated. Without saying anything, she came and sat down next to me on the bed.

I'm proud to say that I did not act smug when I handed her the box of tissues. To be honest, I was relieved that she admitted I was right.

She heaved a big sigh and lay down with her head on my legs.

"Alright, smarty-pants. Fill me in."

"Well, as you already know, Vincent is deeply hurt by the drug-smugglers' choice of location. Naturally, his pet monsters don't like it either. In fact, they're very angry, and they would like to destroy anything they can get their hands on. Following me so far?"

Yuffie nodded solemnly.

"The reason Vincent is trying to avoid you isn't just because his Lucrecia Guilt is eating at him. You saw him out there; you heard the extra voices, right? Right after you went inside, he turned into Death Gigas and took a chunk out of the balcony."

Yuffie's eyes went wide. "He did?"

I nodded. "That's why he wanted you to go away. He's been struggling to keep his demons under control ever since he got the news about the cave, and he needed to be alone so he could concentrate. With you there, his emotions were getting in the way and making things harder. That's why he said 'I don't want to hurt you.' He's afraid of himself, Yuffie. And you know how hard it is for him to express himself normally; now that he's putting all of his energy into not flying off the handle, he couldn't focus long enough to put his feelings into words and explain this to you. He didn't want to hurt your feelings – he was trying to avoid hurting you at all. You see?"

Yuffie looked stunned. "How do you know all this?"

I shrugged. "Like you said, I have that 'dead bitch in my head,' as you put it. Through Dr. Crescent's memories, I know a bit of what Vincent was like before. I've seen into his head a few times, sort of by accident. Data interference, through the Lifestream or something; it's happened before with other people too and I don't know how it happens but _anyway..._ I know him. I feel like I've known him for years, because if you count Dr. Crescent's memories as my own, I guess I have. It makes me feel old, having someone's whole life in my memory. But that's not the point. The point is, don't be hurt by the way he's acting. He's doing it for your own safety, because he loves you."

Yuffie thought it over for a second, looking in my eyes for any sign of doubt or falsehood. I looked back, unswerving, and she shut her eyes and sighed.

"I thought _I_ was supposed to be the older sister, and now here you are talking to me about love like you know what you're talking about."

"If you want to get technical, I probably _don't_ know what I'm talking about. Lucrecia does. Besides, you're forgetting I'm almost 20."

"When's your birthday?"

I shook my head. "I forget. I have a feeling it was in the fall, though."

"And you're already 19?"

"If I'm counting right."

"Aw, dammit. You _are _older than me. My birthday's in the spring. No fair! Little twerp. Just don't forget I'm still taller than you."

"Not for long, if I take after my biological sister, that is."

"Aww, I bet you'll have real boobs, too. Not like me," she said, looking ruefully down at her perky but admittedly small bosom.

"Hey, quality over quantity. Besides, in your line of work, it's an asset to be small. Just imagine how much faster Tifa would be without those melons?"

We shared a laugh at her expense, then Yuffie curled up and went to sleep. I've been writing steadily since then; I was too agitated to sleep, but I think I can manage it now. I hope I can – it's midnight, and tomorrow is going to be another long, long day.

_Yyyyep. So I tried to keep it as "In Character" as possible, but the emotions involved kind of complicated that... So yeah. Let me know if you think it's too melodramatic and I can twitch things around a little. Poor Vinny. I just wanted to hug him the whole time I wrote this... -sigh-_


	12. Chapter 12

_Chapter 12! Wherein some badass shit goes down. Alright. This is a long one; it was already long, and then I was going to make it another cliffhanger but I didn't have the heart. :P **Contains violence and some seriously colorful language. And all y'all know I don't own no copyrights.**_

Yuffie has decided to sleep, thereby preventing any unpleasantness – hopefully. She is in one of the ship's bedrooms now, on her side with a bucket next to the bed, just in case. Reeve, meanwhile, seems very nervous. He is pacing around a great deal, his brow furrowed, and he checks on Yuffie every ten minutes or so.

I am beginning to be curious about Reeve. I know nothing about him, nothing about his past, not even his age, which I can't even begin to guess. He has a peculiar face – it has creases, but they are not deep. His eyes are wise, worried and sad, but he has a youthful kind of energy that conflicts with that kind of world-weariness. He could be anywhere between twenty-eight and forty-five...

I watched the sun rise through the window. What an amazing sight! I'm not sure I've seen a sunrise before, and to see it from the air was spectacular. The sun's light cast bright orange, pink, and buttery yellow splashes against the clouds. I had to stop watching when the fluffy clouds covered in pretty colors began to remind me of ice cream... My stomach knows itself to be empty, and yet I can't bear the idea of breakfast so early. It's an unpleasant feeling: I've been awake too long for me to be able to go back to sleep, and yet here I am groggy, yawning, and far from alert. I know it will fade, but I am beginning to feel tempted to brave one of Cid's famously strong coffees... Maybe. I don't want to overcompensate and get jittery. Then again, I wonder if that is how Cid's crewmen are managing to be alert at this hour? They seem well enough.

Speaking of jittery, Reeve's constant pacing is beginning to make me nervous. Maybe Cid could make him (and me, too) a cup of coffee with a bit of his whiskey in it...

.

I finally got Reeve to stop pacing, because I could tell it was beginning to irk the captain. I simply advised him that it might be more productive if he sat down and talked to me about what was worrying him instead.

Reeve sat down on the window ledge next to me and heaved a big sigh. (Cid gave me a grin and a thumbs-up while Reeve wasn't looking.)

"I _am_ concerned about Vincent," he said, after a moment's thought. "But I know from experience that he can take care of himself. It's Yuffie I'm more concerned about, because she's worrying herself sick over him." He stroked his beard anxiously. "She was crying the last time I came in. She wasn't very coherent – but from what I can make out, not only is she concerned for his safety, but she is afraid she may have offended him somehow, and misunderstood him, and was afraid she wouldn't be forgiven. I reassured her that a mere misunderstanding would not drive him away, and eventually she calmed down. I asked if she needed anything else; she replied that Shelke would only tell her not to worry, Cid would only tell her not to be a wuss, and she can't drink while on a mission, so no." He chuckled. "At least she's still her old self."

I nodded, sighing. "It's true, that's exactly what I would say. And it's also true that it wouldn't help at all."

Reeve laughed, and I was glad to have defused his tension a little. The man is so conscientious that I am afraid for his health – he cares so much about others that he himself is under constant strain.

Cid pensively puffed at his cigarette.

"You know, I haven't seen Valentine have to fight this hard for control, ever. That motherfucker's got guts of steel, let me tell you. After all he's been through, and now _this_ shit on top of it..." He shook his head. "I hope this doesn't break him, I really do. He's faced tougher shit (physically, at least) than this, without breaking a sweat. But man, the _nerve_ of those slimy ratfuck bastards to set up their damn bullshit in that cave!" Cid shook his fist, evidently wishing there were something around he could punch that wasn't delicate equipment. He gave a frustrated sigh. "Makes me wanna spit. That place is fuckin' _holy,_ man. Those shitheads ain't got any reason to be there. I just hope What's-her-name is haunting the living dog shit out of 'em." He shook his head. "Like I say, Valentine's got guts of fuckin' steel. Amazing fella, really. You'd think he wasn't emotional. Acts colder than a witch's tit in a brass brassiere, but then just when you think he doesn't give a shit, BAM! He's right there to save your ass and then some. _And _he holds his liquor like an oak barrel. Best goddamn friend a fella could have." Cid took a swig from his coffee, then looked at Reeve and I, pointing his finger at us. "And I don't say that kinda shit lightly, mind you, 'cause all those Avalanche punks are the best goddamn friends _in the world_!" Satisfied that he had made his point, he focused his attention back on steering the ship.

I was touched. It's true, Cid doesn't say that kind of thing lightly. Reeve seemed a little stunned, then smiled. "It's true, he's not as cold as he seems. It surprised me, at first, until I worked with him in person..."

I nodded, and Cid broke in again. "It's his _eyes._ They give every damn thing away. Whatever he's thinkin' just pours right out of 'em like so much hot coffee, even if he doesn't say shit. If you've got the balls to look in 'em long enough, you can read 'em like a book. Just about breaks my heart to see how much he cares about that little ninja pest," he said, gesturing with his head back towards the cabin. "She's like a kid sister to me, and I don't know that there's anybody I'd trust more with my kid sister than him. And I'm one protective sonofabitch," he added with a touch of pride.

I'm glad that I'm not the only one who's noticed Vincent's eyes. I was afraid that no-one else looked at them, which would be such a shame – they're practically a work of art. I haven't seen that color anywhere else outside of a wine-glass. Summon materia comes the closest, but it's not fringed with dark lashes or burning with emotion. Burning, yes, but cold. Inside his porcelain exterior, Vincent Valentine is a slow-burning flame, and those eyes are windows through which that flame can be seen.

Since when did I get into metaphors? Maybe it's a phase. I hope so; re-reading what I've just written makes me uneasy. Then again maybe that's just because I still don't like addressing my own feelings...

...

When I said that it would be another long day – I had no idea. No idea at all.

We arrived at the checkpoint near the foot of the mountains right on schedule, but we were short one chocobo, as Cid insisted on coming with us. Originally, he was supposed to stay with the airship; however, he insisted on being part of the action, which was not surprising at all. It meant that Yuffie and I had to share a chocobo, being the two lightest party members – but that was perhaps for the best, since I had never been on one before.

It was a much shorter journey than I expected, although the terrain was brutal and I was grateful for the bird I was riding. We dismounted about a quarter of a mile away and made the rest of the way on foot – to be more stealthy – while our guide turned back with all the birds. A few feet from the cave entrance, out of earshot because of the waterfall, I contacted Tseng on the PDA, which conveniently had a hands-free headset.

"Tseng: we are approaching the cave entrance. Stand by."

"Good. Proceed as planned."

"Invisibility activated. Commencing infiltration. Shelke out." Creeping forward silently, I entered the cave. I was very alarmed by what I found.

A feeling of hostility permeated the whole cave. Lucrecia hung trapped in her fountain, and I could tell this feeling was emanating from her. She was aware of the people there, and did _not_ approve of their presence. It was frightening; here, she was not merely the friendly presence that permeated her data in my mind – she had become a force of nature.

Two guards stood at the cave entrance. I slipped past them easily. Once inside, I found a bustling enterprise. At one side of the cave was a big tank, heated from underneath. Inside of it was a large, mechanized paddle; this was slowly turning and stirring a thick, blue-black syrup. This was snowfire in its rawest form, I realized. Two workers with masks covering their mouths and noses were standing on either side of it. As I watched, a buzzer went off, and they began spooning the mixture out with a ladle into brick-sized rectangular molds, which were laid out on a conveyor belt. A third worker turned a crank, making the belt take these bricks a little ways away, where other workers were waiting. They turned on a couple of electrical fans that were squarely pointed at the bricks of snowfire. When the bricks were cooled and solidified, the buzzer would sound again and the bricks were loaded onto small carts and wheeled across to the other side of the cave.

At the other side, another group of workers stood at a long table. At one end, some of them were chopping the bricks of snowfire into smaller pieces; these pieces were placed in a bucket in the middle of the table. When the bucket was full, a worker would empty it into a grinder and the chunks of snowfire would be ground into a fine powder. This powder was emptied out into bags, which were piled up against the wall of the cave. Lamps had been set up at regular intervals along the walls of the cave, and a couple near the entrance. All of the machinery was powered by two old mako-powered generators. (Where they got the mako to run them I still do not know, but it will be investigated – the harvesting of spirit energy is now illegal!) Two or three supervisors were strolling back and forth, making sure that all was going according to plan and nobody was stealing. Everything had been carefully calculated to move smoothly, without a hitch. I would change all that.

The workers, the supervisors and the guards all had something in common: they were incredibly nervous. Although they all had masks, and I could only see their eyes, it was obvious they were under constant pressure, and it was no wonder, with Lucrecia hanging there eerily, constantly willing them to leave! Most of the work was concentrated right up against the walls, and the supervisors and the workers with the carts steered as far away from her as possible.

I found one of the generators and followed the various cords that ran from it, finding where they all went. Sabotaging this little operation was going to be fun. Keeping my voice just below the hum of the generators, I gave Tseng an update on what I had found, and what I planned to do. Then, I struck.

First, with a small pocket knife, I severed the cords of the fans just enough that the next time they ran, they would short out spectacularly. Then I investigated the hot plate that was heating the raw snowfire, and found it had different settings. It was set for the lowest temperature; I turned it up to Maximum. Then, lurking by the plugs that lit the lamps on each side of the cave, I waited.

The buzzer went off, and the workers by the tank began to spoon out snowfire into the molds and sent them on their way. The bricks were already headed toward the fans when one of the workers noticed something wrong in the tank. I saw them consult each other from afar, then one of them called over a supervisor. He came over, looking irritated. The three of them spoke, then the supervisor went to check the hot plate. He knelt down to inspect it – and then the fans exploded in a shower of sparks, and the lights went out.

The two lamps near the door were plugged in separately, and so they stayed on – but they were very weak. In the darkness of the cave, phosphorescent crystals began to shimmer like eyes in a few places on the wall, while the mako fountain, in which Lucrecia was suspended, emitted a steady glow. She was clearly visible now, glowing in the darkness, no longer dismissable as an optical illusion. Her specter was very real, and to the poor workers, it was terrifying.

Amid the pandemonium that ensued, I turned off my invisibility and called Yuffie on the PDA. "Mayhem complete. Come kick some ass, big sis." In no more than a few seconds, each of the guards gave a yell as Yuffie knocked them out and stole their guns. She handed these back to Reeve, who was standing behind her, then whipped out her shuriken and proceeded to kill all the supervisors. Reeve, now dual-wielding a couple of powerful automatic pistols, stepped in and took out both generators, leaving the cave lit by mako crystals alone. He stepped back towards the cave entrance and whipped out his PDA.

"Vincent! It's all yours."

Reeve and I retreated as Vincent swept into the cave and began methodically annihilating everyone in it – but I noticed Yuffie still there, fighting along with him. Some of the more level-headed workers had seized weapons from the bodies of the supervisors, while still others had improvised them out of the equipment; they were no match for the pair, but I had a bad feeling about it all.

"Yuffie!" I called. "Get out of there!"

Yuffie either ignored or didn't hear me, and continued her agile pattern of slaughter. Finally, Vincent began to give off heat waves, as I had seen him do on the balcony.

"Yuffie," he growled over the screams, "thank you. Now pull back and leave this to me."

Yuffie didn't move. She shook her head emphatically. "Sorry, boss. I'm staying here and helping you out."

Vincent, clearly dismayed, tried to hold back his transformation. "No! It's too dangerous! I can't-"

Yuffie rolled her eyes and giggled. "Blah blah blah, whatever. You sound like Cloud used to. Don't you know me at all, Vinny? Danger is my middle name! Bask in my rays, evildoers," she shouted triumphantly, slicing through an unfortunate worker who tried to tackle her.

Vincent shook his head frantically. "You don't understand. I—NO!" It was too late; Vincent flickered out of sight, and in his place was Hellmasker. It surged forward through the cave, its chainsaw slicing through everyone and everything in its path.

"Ho—holy shit," said Yuffie, quietly spellbound. "I've never actually seen Hellmasker in action before."

Pausing in its massacre, it turned to look our way, and that sight will haunt me forever. All in white, splattered with blood and worse – but its eyes were the most terrifying of all. They were completely expressionless as they looked at us.

Hellmasker looked around, as if to survey the carnage. Its eyes narrowed just a little, with a hard glint in them as if Hellmasker were smiling in grim satisfaction behind its mask.

"Oh gods," said Yuffie, going pale. "Oh gods, that is fucking freaky. That... Vincent isn't in there, anywhere."

I grabbed her by the arm. "Come on, let's go. He's got this."

Reeve appeared in the cave entrance as Hellmasker disappeared and an enraged Galian took its place. Roaring, it took out several more of the workers before beginning to build up a massive fireball between its paws. Reeve noticed where the beast was aiming it, and gasped.

"Shelke! Yuffie! Get out of here, _now!_" Following his line of vision, I realized that Galian was preparing to hurl the fireball at the snowfire tank in the back. I nodded sharply, and turned to Yuffie, tugging on her arm – but she wasn't listening. She was still standing, spellbound, watching the Galian beast with glazed eyes. I shook her a little. "Yuffie! The tank's going to explode! _Yuffie!_"

She shook her head suddenly like a dog shaking off water. "What?"

"THE TANK!" Reeve and I shouted simultaneously.

"We need to pull out, _right now!_" I dragged her away towards the entrance, but not fast enough. Just as we were setting foot outside the cave, Galian threw the fireball and the tank exploded even more violently than I had expected. A wave of intense heat ripped through the cave, and the force of the explosion pushed us through the entrance – and over the edge.

I had almost no time to inhale before I hit the water headfirst. Holding my breath, I turned myself around and headed for what I assumed was the surface – but the water was so cold that I couldn't convince myself to open my eyes. I thought I had nearly reached the surface, but then the waterfall pushed me back down again. When I finally open my eyes, I was horrified to see that I was much deeper now than I thought I had been – and I had yet to take a breath. I quickly paddled with my legs, trying to propel myself towards the shore. I was still holding my breath, and the lack of air and the coldness of the water were beginning to push me towards panic. Struggling against the current and acting purely on instinct, I managed to swim to shore and reach land and air. I scraped my knees on the sharp rock trying to climb out, but I barely noticed; at least I was safe again. I took a deep breath; dark splotches appeared in my peripheral vision. I closed my eyes tightly and they became bright splotches. I took another deep breath, then lay down on the grass and fainted.

I woke up having no idea where I was, but Tifa explained to me what had happened. Yuffie hit her head in the fall and got a concussion; Reeve carried her to safety. I'm impressed – not only that he saved her, but that he was able to swim so well in those clothes! Cid gave her a Phoenix Down and rushed us north to Rocket Town, while Cloud stayed back to wait for Vincent. Yuffie has already recovered, although it's only been a couple of hours. Tifa – being motherly, as always – has made sure she stays in bed. The better Yuffie feels, however, the more likely it is that it will take sandbags to hold her down... As for me, I'm just fine. It's good that I made it to shore when I did, because I must have been within seconds of passing out from lack of oxygen. I made it just in time, before fainting from the stress anyway. It sounds so silly compared to Yuffie's life-threatening injury. Thank goodness for Reeve; if he had not been there... I don't even want to think about it.

I'm trying to maintain a cheerful outlook, now that I know everyone is safe and sound, but... I feel terrible. I feel responsible, somehow, for bringing Yuffie to harm. I should have been faster, more persistent, in getting her out. I should have dragged her out of there the minute we saw Hellmasker! I suppose I can't be _too_ hard on myself, when I was shocked by the sight of it almost as badly as she was, but I can't help but think that Vincent was counting on me to keep her out of harm's way. He knew full well that once his demons were allowed to act, he would not be able to control them. He wanted her away from that; I suspect he wanted to spare her the sight of it, even, and only I was there to coax her out of that cave in time – and I failed. If it weren't for Reeve, things could have been much worse. I need to thank him, and apologize to Yuffie. And apologize to Vincent, too, when he gets back. Poor Vincent... Poor Yuffie! If only I had been faster... I hope I can make it up to her, somehow; I hope I can make it up to both of them. Gods, do I feel terrible.

_Soooo hope that wasn't too long. Whew. So much stuff. O.O_


	13. Chapter 13

_Aaaand we're back. Not so much action in this one. Our little friend needs a break. But we do get some important plot development. And some extra gore, so beware. **FFVII is owned by SquarePenix. If any of you readers are a representative of SquareEnix and want to sue me, do it for calling you Penix instead of Enix, not for borrowing your characters, please. kthx :)**_

Normally I'm an early riser, but exhaustion kicked in and I didn't wake up until past 11 o'clock. I must have needed the rest, but of course my body took the opportunity to grow some more. The arms and legs of my pajamas were much too short when I got up, and... I have breasts. Not much of them, but they're there, and I feel most peculiar about them. I'm beginning to wish I weren't growing so quickly – I have no time to get used to anything! One minute they weren't there, and now they are, and I can only imagine how awkward it will be for everyone else when I come out for breakfast jiggling around in my too-small clothes. The hairs on my legs are starting to be visible, too. Tifa and Yuffie don't seem to have any. I should ask them about it; I hope they don't laugh... Just one more thing to deal with today.

I'm still lying here, because I'm afraid to get up. I don't want to face the day, because I know that when I do, I will have to face yesterday as well. I know that no amount of moping around in bed will help anything, or make what has happened go away, but I've had enough of being strong. I've had enough of _coping_ with things, of acting grown up. Biologically speaking, yesterday I was about twelve years old; today I must be at least fourteen, and yet I feel _less_ mature than I did then. Two days ago I felt like the nineteen-year-old I really am, maybe even the 20-year-old I will soon be. Today, in my head, I am no older than my body pretends to be.

It's not simply that I don't want to get up. I do want to, the more I lie here, but I don't want to get up to what I know I will find. I want to wake up back in Junon, to frolic in the sun and be tossed by salty waves, to eat more armored sea-creatures dipped in butter. I want to see Rufus ShinRa in swim trunks. I want to torment his pet Turks until they threaten to arrest me. I want to try on swimsuits until I find two that I like, then buy the cheaper one and wear the more expensive one out of the store under my clothes. I don't want to be here; I don't want to face the disaster that I know I could have prevented.

Last night, around ten, Cloud and Vincent arrived on Fenrir. I didn't even know Cloud had brought his motorcycle; he must have stowed it on the airship, and unloaded it right before we took off for Rocket Town. To be honest, I never realized he was that sensible.

When they pulled up, Vincent was inside in seconds, eyes blazing.

"Where's Yuffie?"

Shera took him to the guest bedroom, where she was already sleeping; I followed them. The room was lit by a small lamp on the bedside table. With a dramatic flourish of his cloak, Vincent was on his knees beside the bed in an instant, watching her. A bronze-clawed hand reached out to hold hers. He stayed this way for a minute or two, then stood up. His eyes were furious.

Shera met his eyes with stoic compassion, and I was surprised – but she handles Cid on a regular basis, so I suppose a more internalized sort of rage is nothing more than a little variety in what she has to deal with.

"She had a concussion, but she's been healed. All she needs now is rest. Don't worry," she added with a gentle smile. "She'll be just fine in no time."

Vincent looked back down at Yuffie, who lay oblivious to his stare. He looked back up, this time at me.

"What happened?"

I felt as if my stomach had attempted to flee by breaking in two, and each half taking refuge in one of my feet. I did not want to have to explain this.

"I... We..." I tried to simplify it as much as possible. "It's my fault. I couldn't get her out of the cave in time. We were just leaving when Galian blew up the tank, and the explosion pushed us over the edge of the falls. Yuffie hit her head on the way down. Reeve is a better swimmer than I am; he brought her to shore and Cid gave her a Phoenix Down. They saved her. I... I'm so sorry." I leaned against the wall behind me and hid my face in my hands. I couldn't face his eyes any longer.

"Shelke..."

"I'm sorry!" I burst out, starting to cry. I felt terrible. "I didn't try hard enough. I just... She wouldn't move," I said, showing my face again to wipe away my tears. I met Vincent's eyes again for a moment but couldn't bear to hold his red gaze. "She'd never seen Hellmasker before. I tried to get her attention, but..." I shook my head. "It wasn't until Reeve came in that we managed to leave. And then it wasn't fast enough. If I hadn't been so... If' I'd just been more alert..." I hid my face again, shaking my head. Everything about the mission should have been a complete success, but I had blundered, and now Yuffie was hurt and Vincent was going to let Hellmasker have my head.

After a moment of silence, I looked back at Vincent. He was dismayed, but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking into space as if shocked.

"So she saw... Hellmasker..." He looked back at Yuffie, and bent over to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Yuffie... Sorry."

I was totally perplexed. What did _Vincent_ have to be sorry about? Then, he turned to look at me again, and as I saw the sadness on his face it hit me. Galian had thrown the fireball that destroyed the snowfire tank. It was that explosion that had propelled us over the side of the waterfall. Vincent was blaming himself.

I shook my head. This was ridiculous. "Vincent—"

"Shelke. Tell Yuffie... that I'm sorry." With that, he swept out of the room.

I leaned against the wall, stunned. _Now_ what was I supposed to do? Not only was Yuffie injured, but now Vincent had taken the blame on himself and was about to do heaven knows what...

I ran out of the room. "VINCENT!" I caught up to him in the hallway and practically tackled him.

"Vincent, where are you going? It's not your fault! Please, don't..." I wasn't sure exactly what it was that I didn't want him to do, but I had a very bad feeling about everything.

Vincent sighed and closed his eyes as if in pain. He gently detached my arms from him.

"I'm sorry, Shelke. There's something I have to do."

I slumped to the floor as he let go of me and walked out the door. I had done it again. I couldn't make her go, and I couldn't make him stop. Could I be more useless?

I heard myself explaining to everyone that he had gone, but after that all I could do was get undressed and collapse onto the couch. Even then, it was a long time before I could actually sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I relived the battle. I saw – and heard – small chunks of flesh flying as Hellmasker masterfully chainsawed a man in half from the head down. The demon caught another one from behind; the man screamed as the saw dug into the middle of his back and Hellmasker drove it upward to tear through his lungs and up through his right shoulder. There is nothing to compare that sound to, an intricate blend of crunching bone and squishing flesh mingled with the whine of the saw... It is a horror never to be forgotten. My blood ran cold as I saw its eyes once again, expressionless and cold. In that brief moment when it had looked my way, I had half expected it to come towards us. But instead it turned away, subtly smiling at the carpet of carnage that lay at its feet. I heard the lava-like bubbling of overheating snowfire spilling onto the cave floor, and the screams of an unsuspecting worker who had tripped in the sudden darkness and fallen into it. I could almost smell its acrid smoke, and see the sparks of gunfire; I could still hear the crunching thuds as Cerberus' bullets hit home again and again. Opening my eyes did no good, for in the darkness everything was colored black and blue like that horrid syrup that smoked and bubbled and scalded. I don't know how long it was before I finally fell asleep. It's no wonder I woke up so late; it's a wonder I ever fell asleep at all.

It's almost noon now. I'll get up and face the day, and try to make things right again. It'll never happen if I don't try, so there's no point in my lying here any longer.

...

I'm in Nibelheim, at the inn, and I'm hoping this means I'm about halfway to making things right again.

I'll explain how I got here...

After getting out of bed, I quickly got dressed and headed to the kitchen, very aware that my shorts were much too short and my chest a little too pointy, my hair was tousled, and that I had no idea what to say to anyone. I could not have been any more awkward, I think, short of having food on my face or something hanging out of my nose.

Everyone but Yuffie was at the table, a pot of coffee in the middle.

"Well look-ee here, if it ain't Sleepin' Beauty," Barrett said jovially, doing nothing to make me feel better about anything.

I forced a wan smile onto my face. "Good morning, everybody..." I clumsily sat down in a chair. "How's Yuffie?"

I got my answer immediately, as Yuffie came bouncing into the kitchen, her hair still damp from the shower.

"Woo-_hoo, _I smell pancakes! Hey, guys—hey, Shelkie, come borrow some clothes; those shorts are ridiculous even for me."

We headed back to the airship, where Yuffie rummaged through her small suitcase for something I could wear. We were alone, making this the least awkward time to apologize.

"Yuffie..."

"Mmhmm? Oh, _awesome!_ I forgot I packed these. You should keep them; they're totally you."

She threw me a pair of shorts that were purple with white flowers all over them. I failed to see how they brought me to mind, but I kept that opinion to myself.

"Um, thanks... L-listen, I... I'm sorry about what happened."

"Huh?" Yuffie looked at me questioningly before realizing what I meant. "Oh, you mean my head?" She giggled. "I'm just fine, silly. It's the hardest part of my body, don'tcha know," she said, knocking on the top of her head with a grin; for a moment I wondered if her brain had healed completely after all.

"But I..." I looked down at the shorts without really seeing them. I couldn't understand why she didn't seem to know what I was talking about.

Yuffie must have recognized the look on my face for what it was, because she dropped what she was doing and stood up crossly.

"Oh, no you don't. Ohhhh, no you don't. Don't you _dare_ be thinking what I think you're thinking. This was _not _your fault. Just because Vincent thinks he's betrayed everyone every time Death Gigas farts... Look, that's just not a good example to follow, and it's _not_ your fault he left. Okay? Got it?" She looked me firmly in the eye; all I could do was nod.

"Good. Now stop moping, and start dressing. We just need—ha! This shirt is _perfect!_"

To be honest, it was all a little anticlimactic. I had expected to be forgiven in a more formal way, not to have my very apology shot down before I could even voice it. But it was close enough; I felt better.

Towards afternoon, there was still no sign of Vincent. The last time he had disappeared, he had been gone for days, and only came back when I went and found him. The grim determination on his face as he left this time made me think that similar measures would be needed again, and the sooner the better. I approached Cloud first, since he seemed to understand Vincent more than most.

"Do you think anyone is still up at the cave?"

Cloud shook his head. "The Turks were there when we left yesterday, but they should have finished cleaning everything up by now."

I nodded, trying not to think about what it was they had been "cleaning up."

"Cloud—do you think I could borrow Fenrir for a day or two?"

He looked at me with surprise, then smirked. "Do you think you can manage it?"

"If you practice with me a little, and if I have a helmet, it should be fine."

Cloud nodded. "Let's get rolling then."

One horrified Tifa and a couple of hours later, I was all set. I had all the gear – a helmet, goggles that matched it, light armor on my elbows and fingerless gloves; my old swords were buckled onto my legs. I packed a change of (Yuffie's) clothes and some food in a small bag that strapped tightly across my back. Cloud gave me his wallet and all the gil in it.

"You should stay at the inn in Nibelheim tonight and continue on in the morning. It's a long haul, and getting to the cave will be rough. Unless there's somewhere nearby where you can rent a mountain chocobo, you'll have to take Fenrir as far as he can go and then hike it. Like I said, it'll be rough going," he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You sure you wanna do this?"

"Someone's got to," I said.

Cloud nodded. "Alright. Be careful. Call me when you get to Nibelheim safely, alright?"

"Yessir. Thanks for trusting me with Fenrir."

"You take good care of him, alright? And stay in touch."

I nodded, not really caring whether Cloud was referring to Fenrir or Vincent. I planned on taking very good care of both.

"I'll phone in the verdict," I said, and I was about to start the engine when I was suddenly enveloped in a ferocious Yuffie hug.

"You be careful! I'd go with you, but if he is where you think he is..." She shook her head emphatically. "I'd have to be getting paid for me to want to go back there, seriously. I'm pretty sure our pal Dr. Crescent would _much_ prefer a visit from you than a visit from me, know what I mean?" She grimaced, and I smiled.

"Thanks, Yuffie. I'll bring him back safely for you."

Yuffie shook her head. "Don't just do it for me. We both know I don't get a single thing that goes on in his pretty head anyway. Do it for him, and for you. 'kay?" She stepped back and waved vigorously; I started the engine.

"Safe travels, Shelkieee!" Yuffie hollered as I began to roll away.

"Be _careful!_" Tifa's face was worried as she waved goodbye.

"Go get 'im, tiger!" Cid punched the air with one fist.

"Yeah," punctuated the less articulate Barret, echoing Cid's gesture.

I gave one final wave and beeped the horn a couple of times before speeding away.

The ride was just as much fun as I thought it would be. The wind in my face was exhilarating, although twice I had to pull over and scrape a layer of tiny, pulverized insects off of the front of my goggles. I was surprised at how few beasts I met along the way. Mostly they stayed clear of the highway; as I was approaching Nibelheim around nightfall, I saw many glowing eyes by the side of the road, and expected to be attacked from several directions at once – but none of them came near. I think I did remarkably well; although we're both quite dusty, neither I nor Fenrir has gotten a single scratch.

And so here I am. I only hope I'm right about Vincent. I hope that I can reach him, and that when I do, I can persuade him that he's not to blame – for anything.

_Wheeee things are progressing... A big thanks to everybody still reading & reviewing. Peace, & stay tuned!_


	14. Chapter 14

_Okay Dokay... here we go. I would have posted this earlier, but they were running all of the original Star Wars Trilogy back to back on TV so I was forced to put it off... :P I'm really curious to hear what people think of this one. **I am not trying to make money with this story **(or anything else; I should maybe get on that O.o)_

I woke up around dawn and decided it wasn't worth it to attempt any more sleep. On my way out I asked the receptionist if there were anywhere around where I could rent a chocobo.

"Not around here, no... The only place I know of is several hours north; if you head up to Rocket Town and get a boat or a plane..."

"I think I'll just hike it. Thanks."

I paused on my way out of town to look at the mountains in the distance, with ShinRa manor at their feet. The old mako reactor had been replaced with a set of windmills, I noticed; it must have taken a very courageous crew, given the area's past. The manor, on the other hand, remained untouched. It was dilapidated and spooky, its eeriness enhanced by my knowledge of past events. In the basement of that house, Sephiroth had discovered the papers that gave justification to his mad thoughts. In the basement of that house, Hojo had done terrible things to Vincent's body, and Vincent had sealed himself away in the crypt for decades in shame. The more I looked at the house, the more I found myself anthropomorphizing it; the windows were like hollow eyes, and the front steps were twisted into a joyless smirk. I felt as if ShinRa manor knew everything that had occurred within its walls. Its gloom was infectious, somehow, and the low-hanging clouds that obscured the sunrise did nothing to alleviate that mood.

The drive to the ridge was not nearly as smooth as the trip to Nibelheim. Thanks to Fenrir I managed to outrun most of the things that came after me, but in the end I had to stop and fight off a couple of large, dog-like creatures that seemed terribly mutated. It was good that I have two weapons, or I might not have made it away... They did not seem to be attacking out of pure predatory instinct. To be honest, they seemed in pain, and too enraged by it act sensibly. Oddly, that gave them an advantage, since their attack had no clear pattern; it is much easier to defend yourself against something predictable. Perhaps the old reactor was to blame for their state; I do not know. What I do know is that I would like never to see anything like them again.

I left Fenrir underneath a sturdy-looking ledge of rock at the foot of the cliff; I made a note of the place, as there were heavy clouds gathering overhead and the sheltered area was quite large. It need be, it could shelter not only the motorcycle but a couple of people, as well.

The climb was easier than I expected, but nonetheless difficult; I found myself wondering just how I expected to get back down again... I have no idea how long it took, but I rejoiced the moment I heard the waterfall. My arms had begun to ache from climbing, and my legs were humming with adrenaline from a couple of near slips. When I finally reached the cave, I had to sit down for a moment and take deep breaths, so that I could face whatever I would find there calmly.

I stepped into the cave silently, still a little afraid of what I might see. At least the Turks had been thorough, for which I was very grateful. Lucrecia hung there, majestically immobilized in a fountain of mako like a delicate insect in amber. I paused, apprehensive, the sense of hostility that had pervaded the cave before still fresh in my mind. Then a vague positive feeling swept over me, and I knew that it was Lucrecia's welcome. There was benevolence there, with a touch of gratitude, and I smiled as I sensed that she recognized my presence and my purpose there. I continued forward, and as my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could make out Vincent's shape on the ground near the fountain. He was lying down, on his side, his head resting on one outstretched arm. I quickly came and knelt beside him, checking his pulse.

He was dormant, as he had been when Cloud first found him in Nibelheim: not merely asleep, but in a kind of coma, and he would only wake when something powerful compelled him. I sat and watched him for a while, wondering what to do. I knew better than to think that his rest was peaceful; he had to come out of it. He had spent decades of his life locked away in his personal hell like this already, and I was not about to let him wallow in it any longer.

Lucrecia's voice hummed outward like a wave from where she stood suspended, but I could not decipher words out of the murmur that echoed around the cavern. Suddenly she was in my head – everything was dark, save for her image looking me in the eye. It was as if I stood face to face with her, her hands on my shoulders as she looked down at me earnestly.

"Wake him," she said. "Wake him from the inside. Only you can get through to him now." She smiled ruefully. "He won't like it. But you're persistent, right?" Eyes shining, she gave my shoulders a little shake, then faded out of sight.

As the echoes of her voice dissipated around the cave, I understood what she meant. The way she put it – that only I could reach him – sounded sentimental, but it was true on a very practical level: the Synaptic Net Dive can be used to access a person's subconscious. I had done it before; it is dangerous, true, but this time I was stronger than before. I was doing this of my own free will, to help and not to harm.

I sat beside Vincent's head, gently placing the fingers of my left hand against his temple. I didn't necessarily need to form a link between his mental data and mine, but the connection would be more secure this way, and possibly more comfortable. I shut my eyes and thought of a memory we might have had in common, gently reaching out towards his mind with my own. Knowing what his thoughts might likely be about, I chose the moment not long after my rescue when Lucrecia's data fragments had begun to respond to his presence. That was enough. I could sense the same memory in his mind: when he had explained to me the concept of self-sacrifice. Weary, confused, needing mako, I had stumbled. Vincent caught me, our eyes met, and a moment from Lucrecia's past (and his) came surging to the front of my mind. Appropriately enough, it was a memory of her waking him. Embarrassed, I had stepped away. Vincent remembered it; it was there. I took a deep breath and let my mind surge forward to make the connection with his.

"Data Fragment Link successful," I felt myself saying. "Commencing Synaptic Net Dive."

In I dove, feeling everything that shaped Vincent's personality enveloping me like a warm shell. A part of me wanted to stay there and explore, to discover everything there was to discover about this man who I had come to love and respect. But I had to stay on target; I had to focus – I was here to help him, not to snoop around in his mind while he lay defenseless. I was disgusted that I had even thought of it, even though I had meant no harm. I dived down deeper, searching for the spot where his consciousness lay. He would be far away, in the depths, where things that should have been connected were disconnected, and things that should _not_ have been connected _were_. This was the dream world, and I would have to tread carefully if I were to bring Vincent out of there with his sanity – and mine – intact. I hoped I was there in time, and that his demons would get out of my way and let me help him. I shuddered as I remembered the look in Hellmasker's eyes, the complete lack of any emotion except for a faint gleam of satisfaction as it beheld its gory handiwork.

I had expected to find Vincent beset on all sides, tormented, tortured, howling. Instead, I found him alone. He was surrounded on all sides by nothingness, empty darkness. I could feel the very emptiness of it – it was the complete absence of anything at all. Vincent had surrounded himself not with his demons, not with nightmarish fragments of the past relived again and again, but with pure, bleak despair. How I could see Vincent when there was no light anywhere I did not understand – but this was his mind. It didn't need to make sense for me to save him.

Vincent was sitting there (or floating, since all that was beneath him was Nothing) curled up, hugging his knees like a frightened child. He stared straight ahead, his eyes dull. Even if he were looking at something besides total emptiness, he would not have reacted to it; it was obvious from his expression. He had shut out even his own nightmares; he didn't want to care. Exhaustion was written on his every feature, and I realized with a painful tug at my heart that Vincent Valentine had completely given up on everything.

His mental image of himself as he sat before me was more disheveled than the Vincent that lay on the floor of the cave. His hair was matted, the way it had been when Cloud and the others found him, and dark circles were visible under his eyes. He was wrapped up in his red cloak, the red scarf still wrapped around his head, and his face was tucked into the collar of his cloak so that only his gloomy red eyes were visible. He was barefoot; the tips of his toes jutted out from under the cloak.

I approached him slowly. If he saw me, he gave no reaction to my presence.

"Everyone's waiting for you, Vincent Valentine." This wasn't the first time I had come to fetch him from this cave; I hoped he would remember that.

I felt that he acknowledged my presence, but he gave no visible reaction.

"They made me come up here to find you again, but it was a lot more work this time..." I stopped and knelt in front of him to look him in the eye: "...not that I mind, though."

Vincent closed his eyes and his brow furrowed as if in pain.

"I felt your presence here. Please go away. I'm sorry."

I smiled courageously at him. "You won't get rid of me that easily. I've been thoroughly trained in the Art of Vincent-Bothering by none other than the famous White Rose of Wutai."

Vincent's eyes flew open again with alarm, and suddenly the darkness all around was papered with images of Yuffie. Yuffie smiling, Yuffie laughing, Yuffie crying, Yuffie cuddling Sophie; there was 16-year-old Yuffie picking fights, laughing, fighting beasts, weeping over a slain Aerith. There was a slightly older Yuffie, following and pestering him; there was Yuffie trapped in Nero's darkness, Yuffie hunched over in the hallway of Cid's airship, Yuffie eating ice cream, Yuffie sleeping, Yuffie beaming over an armful of materia; Yuffie berating him on Rufus' balcony, Yuffie unconscious in the bed in Rocket Town, Yuffie nervously coming into his room with a bottle of wine and two glasses... She was everywhere, in all kinds of situations (and positions, I noted dryly). Every facet of her personality was blooming all over Vincent's mind. His eyes welled up with tears, and although my heart bled for him, I was pleased. I had gotten a reaction.

"She's alright, Vincent. She's worried about you. Come back to her."

Vincent's eyes closed in pain again and he retreated a little further into his cloak in an endearingly turtle-like motion. The images around us changed to three, repeating over and over. Yuffie was berating him on the balcony, begging him not to abandon her. Yuffie was in the cave, stubbornly insisting that she stay and fight by his side. Yuffie lay in Cid's house, broken, lost in healing sleep.

"No." He opened his eyes, then abruptly turned his head aside as if ashamed to look me in the eye. "I failed her. I failed to protect the one I wanted to protect most." The images of Yuffie were interspersed now with images of Lucrecia; this feeling was nothing new to him. Vincent curled himself up tighter. "She knows what I am, what I've become." He shook his head. "If I go back I'll only fail her again." Images of his various demons surged up all around among those of Yuffie and Lucrecia. Memories surfaced as well, moments when he had lost control, or had struggled to keep the demons down, as well as all the moments when he had discovered his newfound powers with mingled exultation and horror.

I shook my head. "Vincent, you are not the monster you believe yourself to be. You _have_ control. You've proven that over and over. You have a kind heart, a loving disposition – your... enhancements... only add to your abilities as a warrior. They do _not_ detract from your humanity, or your capacity for affection. You know how to control them; you _have_ controlled them for years, now. Just because they are a part of you, doesn't mean they define who you are. Just because I still have some of Dr. Lucrecia Crescent's data uploaded into my brain doesn't mean that I _am_ Dr. Crescent." It was a poor choice of analogy, and I winced internally when I realized what I had possibly done. Vincent's eyes opened again as Lucrecia and I began to dominate his replayed memories. I felt uneasy seeing myself through his eyes, and I tried to look away, but it seemed like I was everywhere.

Vincent's thoughts turned again to the injured Yuffie, and back in time to his own death, his horror at his own resurrection, and his learning of Lucrecia's fate. The red eyes were shut again, and tears leaked from beneath them.

"You don't understand." Now Hojo cackled his way around Vincent's memories. "Because of what he did to me... to contain Chaos and the others... I am basically immortal. I'm nearly impossible to kill, and I cannot die by natural means." He snorted bitterly. "I suppose I should be thankful."

An image of Yuffie surfaced, and Vincent's imagination made her gradually age. I felt his love for her at every stage, from young as she was now to middle-aged, and as her hair began to gray and wrinkles spread across her delicate features, I could feel that he continued to find her beautiful. Finally, as a sob racked his shoulders, the last image of Yuffie was suddenly blurred and obscured by falling water, as if it were raining heavily right in front of it. Galian, Hellmasker and Death Gigas appeared, standing solemnly behind Vincent, looking down at him without expression.

I forced myself to ignore their menacing presence, and for the first time, I used my ability to manipulate his mind. I hadn't wanted to do it; it seemed like a terrible thing - but I felt that he was slipping beyond my reach. In response to my own thoughts, Yuffie's image began to shine with a gentle light, just bright enough for the water to refract it into a rainbow.

"No, Vincent," I said softly, "it's _you_ who doesn't understand. Yes, if you are immortal, you will have to live to watch all your friends return to the planet, while you will have all of eternity left. You can use that eternity to mourn the past, or you can use it to _live._ Rather than dwelling in the past, pining for good memories that will never again be reality, take the time to enjoy things and create new, pleasant memories for the future. Do you think that over the course of eternity you won't meet any new acquaintances, who might become friends? For that matter, do you think for one moment that this materia stuck in my torso will let _me_ die _either_?"

Vincent raised his head and looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. He looked at the rainbow, gazing at it for a long time. He looked back at me, then back at the ground.

"I..." He shut his eyes and shook his head again. "If I return it will only mean more pain." He hugged his knees tightly and buried his face in his cloak, his tangled hair spilling down over his shoulders. His voice was filled with bitterness: "Let me lie here and rust away like I should have done years ago."

The projected memories faded away, and the walls of endless Nothing returned. Vincent's three demons moved forward menacingly, and I sensed that they were meant to send me out of his mind by frightening or outright _chasing_ me away. That wouldn't happen. I smothered my fear of them.

I stood up to my full height and put my hands on my hips in a Tifa-like gesture.

"Fine. Just sit there in your cocoon of despair and listen to your demons growling, and mope and shut everyone away and go 'boo-hoo-hoo, I'm a monster, boo-hoo.' You're forgetting something, Vincent."

The three demons paused in their approach as Vincent began to recognize the tirade.

"You're forgetting that we're here for you," I continued, hope surging in my chest, hope that I was finally reaching him. "You're forgetting that you and your stupid monsters that you're so afraid of have helped your friends in Avalanche out of a lot of tight scrapes. You're forgetting everything you and they have been through together. You're forgetting everything you and _I_ have been through together. You helped me find myself, and I helped you save the world. Isn't that worth something?"

The demons had resumed their advance, and Vincent was retreating turtle-like into his cloak again, slowly shaking his head. "Please... don't..."

I kept trying. I _couldn't_ let him sink back into darkness. I reached with my mind, testing the limits of what I could do to his own thoughts. I tried to see if I could will one of his cloak's buckles to slip undone, slowly and gently enough that he wouldn't notice. After all, if his cloak were to slip off, he wouldn't be able to hide in it any more, would he? I tested my idea on the lowest buckle; it worked. Smiling with satisfaction, I knelt down in front of him and placed my hands on his shoulders as if I were coaxing a child – although, of course, I had never coaxed a child before. I was acting purely on instinct, and at the moment, Vincent's own instincts had made him into an unhappy child. He cringed at the contact, but I held firm, and surreptitiously undid another buckle with my mind as I spoke.

"Listen, Vincent; please understand – _we need you._ You are a powerful fighter, and a faithful friend. Yuffie loves you; you know that, and you know Tifa sees herself as everyone's mother, including yours. If you were to shut yourself away again, she would be heartbroken. The children love you; they know you're a hero, and Denzel looks up to you more than you realize. Cloud feels more comfortable around you than he does around extroverts like Cid and Barret. Barret has more respect for you than I thought he had for anyone. Cid may be crass, but he's very protective of his friends, and he holds you in high esteem." I projected my own memory against his mind's screen, and there was Cid, steering with a cigarette in his mouth and a cup of coffee by his side, his brow furrowed in not only concentration but concern, concern for Vincent.

"Like I say, Valentine's got guts of fuckin' steel..." I let him run through his whole speech, right down to Avalanche being "the best goddamn friends in the world." Vincent had raised his eyes to watch, and they had a different look in them when he lowered them again - not ashamed, afraid or desperate now, but _humbled._ He was beginning to understand. Another buckle slowly slid undone.

"You see, Vincent? It's not just me, and it's not just Yuffie. Everyone wants you back. _Everyone._ So much so that they sent me up here because they knew I was the only one who could get right up inside your despair and drag you out of it kicking and screaming. You don't deserve this, Vincent. Please, come back. We need you. We... I..." For the first time, I faltered. Vincent's eyes were looking right into mine, luminous and red. They were full of pain again, and a hint of desperation – and a touch of hope. He uncurled himself a little, unfolding into a kneeling position – but it was a great effort, and the hope in his eyes was fading fast.

"It's so heavy..." he shook his head sadly. "It's no use. Leave me alone..."

Not a chance. I knew what was so heavy, and what was the representation of his self-imposed burden of guilt.

"If it's so heavy, then take it off," I suggested simply.

He looked at me with bewilderment.

I almost laughed at his expression, but I held back. "Stop burdening yourself. Leave your guilt behind; there's no need for it where you're going. Remember what I said before? Your monsters aren't you, and neither are the sins you think you've committed." Another buckle slid undone; that left only one more...

"Being yourself is frightening when you don't _know_ who you really are. Trust me, I know this better than anybody! I wore a costume of a personality – one that was barely a personality at all! – for so many years. It's one thing for a child to learn how to _be_; they copy what they like from those around them without even thinking. But when you've been conditioned to think too much already, you have to train yourself to stop thinking and just exist. The rest will come naturally."

I held out my hand to him. "Trust me. It will be frightening. But you helped _me_ find myself, and I owe you at least that much."

A pale hand reached out and took mine. I looked into Vincent's eyes, trying to project calm certainty while hope and fear still battled in his. I supported him as he leaned on me, slowly dragging himself to a standing position—

And the last buckle gave way. The cloak slid to the ground (although there was no ground). Vincent was appalled at finding himself now vulnerable, but I knew there was no going back now. I had won.

Normally I would have been completely distracted and perturbed by the fact that Vincent was entirely nude under his cloak. But I had suspected as much, so I was prepared. After all, it made sense. The cloak was his gimmick, in a way; there in the depths of his mind, it had come to represent all the sources of his despair. It was the embodiment of the powerful sorrow that had come to shape his personality. Huddled underneath that cloak was the _real_ Vincent Valentine, his very soul, unburdened by all the layers imposed on it by life. I knew that if I could bring that soul to light, if I could strip it of its burden, Vincent could be saved.

Smiling, my eyes stayed firmly in contact with his own, and I began to walk backward, dragging him with me, swimming back to the surface, back to conscious thought. I did not let go of his hand until I disconnected my mind from his and I was back in my own body, my fingertips still gently resting against his head.

After a moment, his eyes flickered open, and I smiled at the surprise in them. The dream that I had caused, that had drawn him into the light, had already sunk to the bottom and rusted away.

"Welcome back, Vincent Valentine."

Vincent drew himself up, reclining on one arm.

"No rest for the wicked, it seems," he said. A mischievous smile glimmered in his eyes as he added, "—not that I mind, though."

_So I'm really curious about your reactions to this one, since it's so different from everything before it. I kind of drew inspiration from the part in FFVII when Tifa and Cloud are in the Lifestream and she basically solves Cloud's brain like a logic puzzle. LOL. Anyway, please review! :D Big thanks to my boyfriend for proofreading. xxoo_


	15. Chapter 15

_Author's Note: Soooo despite a bit of a hiatus, this story is far from over! More stuff is totally going to happen and the whole Midgar Gangland thing brought to a head, and I've finally figured it all out so now I'm going to finish the story. YAY. There will be another long break after this chapter while I finish the whole thing, and then I will post chapters weekly. Maybe on Thursdays, 'cause Bleach does it too. Teehee. ^_^ Thanks for bearing with me, and hope you enjoy the rest of it!_

I tried to contain my happiness that I had succeeded. I felt giddy, almost as if I'd had too much coffee; I wanted to jump up and down and clap my hands with glee while squealing, and then give Vincent a massive hug. I contented myself with a smile, and tried to keep it from taking up my whole face.

"So, sleepyhead, let's go home." I stood up and offered him a hand, quite forgetting that outside of his head he didn't need it at all. I blushed as I realized my mistake, but I felt I would look even sillier if I tried to undo the gesture. I quickly found myself blushing deeper as Vincent actually _accepted_ the hand, pulling himself up gracefully. While I stood and stared stupidly, he headed for the cave's entrance; about halfway he stopped, seeing that I wasn't following, and beckoned. I ran to catch up, and suddenly I didn't feel like I had just rescued my friend from his own mind anymore. I felt like a child again, but this time in a good way; I was happy, about to go on an adventure with an older friend-figure – a mentor of sorts, but above all a friend. Coming out of the cave, I felt as if we were both being reborn. I had expected that, for him – but meeting Vincent's inner self had made me realize how little I still knew about my own.

The air was chill and damp, and the sky was very gray. Heavy clouds hung overhead, and the gentle breeze brought with it the scent of rain. Vincent's claws gently took hold of my shoulder. "Look," he said. I followed where he was pointing, to the northwest, where a bank of looming, gray clouds shed dark streaks of rain down towards the horizon. A single ribbon of lightning lit up inside the cloud like a vein, and the thunder followed faintly several seconds later. Rocket Town was getting drenched, and the wind was pushing the storm in our direction.

"Do you think we can make it to Nibelheim?" I asked.

"That depends. How did you get here?"

"Cloud let me take Fenrir. It took me just over two hours to get to the foot of this cliff from there; there were a lot of... creatures." I tried not to think about the dog-things and their agony as they snarled and tried to bite at Fenrir's tires. "I don't know how long it took to climb up here. I left Fenrir parked under a ledge. There's quite a bit of room under there, if we need to take shelter..."

Vincent nodded. "This way," he said, beckoning me to follow him. He took me down a much easier path than the way I had come up, and I felt quite silly until I occurred that he had made this trip many more times than I had. When we reached the bottom, I led us back towards where I thought the ledge was. At first I couldn't remember, and I had to orient myself using the Nibelheim mountains, whose peaks were already beginning to be lost in cloud. We must have been more than half a mile away from where I had left Fenrir; it took a long time for us to get there, and the rain was moving ever closer. A creature charged us, but Vincent shot it before it got close enough to attack. I never even noticed what it was.

As we finally reached the ledge, Vincent looked off toward the mountains, which were now buried deep in the storm clouds.

"We'd better stay here." He looked down at me. "You should let someone know where we are."

I nodded and called Cloud to explain the situation. There was a lot of interference from the weather, but I got through and Cloud was glad to know that Fenrir, Vincent and I were all safe. As I disconnected, I checked the time. It was no wonder I had been disoriented – it was already late afternoon! The sun was barely visible through the clouds, and even as I watched the sun started perceptibly descending. It would get dark very fast with the storm on the way. I wondered where all the time had gone. The drive from Nibelheim had probably taken much longer than I thought, but surely that couldn't have accounted for the vast time difference. I concluded the time loss must have happened in the cave, and what had seemed like minutes had been several hours. As I watched the sky continue to darken, I realized that we would not make it back to Nibelheim until the next day. We are still here, under the ledge, waiting for daybreak so that we can travel in the safety of sunlight.

The wind was blowing the rain our way, and with it came cold. I had packed a sweater, but in spite of having a hood, it was thin and could only do so much. Vincent showed no discomfort, but he frowned, looking toward some barren trees a little ways off.

"We should build a fire," he said. "If we can..."

"We won't need much wood, if it's scarce – I have materia." I had almost forgotten the Fire materia; I had used it as a last resort to get away from the mutants that attacked me earlier. Vincent nodded, and we went out to gather whatever twigs we could find. Fire materia would keep burning for a long time, but it needed at least something to act upon, and the more wood we could find, the better.

We gathered a considerable pile of twigs. I collected as much as I could carry with both arms, while Vincent stayed on guard, watching for enemies. Nothing attacked, or even made itself visible, but both of us could feel eyes watching us from afar. On our way back to the ledge, the rain finally hit, and I ran as best as I could. The twigs were cumbersome, and soon I gave up. Lighting the wet wood would be no problem with materia – it was myself I wanted to keep dry! Sadly, I was too slow, and the wood and I got very wet.

The ledge is high up, just high enough that Vincent can stand up to his full height underneath it with a few inches to spare. We built the fire just under it, so that the ceiling would trap a little of the warmth. It was a good fire – not huge, since I was afraid a big spell might bring the rock crashing down on top of us, but big enough to keep us relatively warm and keep creatures at bay for the night.

The idea of spending the night here, outside, was daunting. The fire helped, though; it generated enough heat to dry my sweater and allow me to warm up a little. Nevertheless, I had gotten chilled and couldn't stop shivering. I was very annoyed; I should have seen this coming and packed warmer clothes, maybe even a blanket... But I had envisioned this only as a very short trip, and an exceedingly simple mission: drive to Nibelheim, drive and hike to the cave, give Vincent a lecture and then drag him back to Rocket Town. I thought at worst we would have to spend the night in Nibelheim and head back to rocket town in the morning. I didn't give weather a single thought. Now, the rain showed no signs of stopping; if and when it finally let up, it would be unsafe to drive to Nibelheim in the dark. Too many creatures would be around, and almost all of them would be hostile. We were trapped at least until daybreak.

Vincent, though no longer brooding, was still a largely silent companion. I sat with my back to the fire until my front started to get cold again, then turned around. Though mostly dry, the minute my sweater would cool down it would start to feel clammy. I hugged myself tightly to keep from shivering. The rain intensified, and began to pour down in a curtain from the edge of our roof. Streams of water hissed and steamed as they hit the fire, but the fire never faltered; it would take much more than water to put it out. I took comfort in that, and moved as close as I safely could. I wanted to relax and get some sleep, to make the time pass quicker – but I was getting chilled, and I was afraid to uncurl myself. When I faced away from the fire, I could see my breath. It didn't even occur to me to ask Vincent for help until he gave it.

As I sat crouched by the fire, a dark shadow passed in between me and the heat of the flame, and something heavy covered my shoulders. Recognizing it immediately as Vincent's cloak, I wrapped it around myself tighter, and looked up.

From my vantage point, huddled on the floor, he was a giant.

"Won't you be cold?" was all I could think to say.

Vincent shook his head. "I can regulate my own body temperature." He smirked, a familiar bitterness in his voice as he added: "...one of my many cursed blessings." Evidently, it was one of Hojo's enhancements to his body, of which he frequently scoffed "I suppose I should be thankful..."

As I watched, his expression shifted to a pensive frown, and then to a slightly puzzled one, as if he had realized something for the first time.

He sounded almost surprised as he spoke again, as if continuing my own thought: "For once, I'm... thankful."

I smiled, knowing then that I really had succeeded. By unconventional, even unethical means, perhaps; but maybe that's part of the fun.

I slept for a while, or dozed. The cloak is so big, and (even grown up) I am so small that I could curl up and burrow into it like a small animal. I don't know how long I slept for; I don't know that Vincent did at all. All I know is that when I woke up, feeling quite rested, I had grown for what I have an odd feeling was the last time.

Yuffie's shorts still fit, but there is no room to spare at all. The bra fits... barely. It was a little loose before, and now it's a little tight. The shirt is alright, I guess, though I don't know how it looks. I haven't seen a mirror in days, but from what I can see looking down, I probably look my age now. The only thing that annoys me is that my hair has now grown enough that my bangs don't function anymore. They keep getting in my eyes; I'll have to tuck them up inside my helmet while I'm driving.

The sky is finally starting to get lighter. Vincent is standing at the cave entrance watchfully. When I had seen him cloakless the first time, when he had disguised himself by abandoning it to visit that park in Edge, he had seemed awkward – like an instrument with a string missing. That awkwardness is gone. He still looks impressive with the cloak on, but he can take it off now and still be himself.

I wonder – was it the cloak itself, or did Yuffie really fall in love with the man beneath it?


	16. Chapter 16

_Hey, everybody! [James Brown voice] ...I'm back...! I'm back...! I'm back...! [/James Brown] Um, so, sorry I made everybody wait like a year before continuing the story. I've finally got it all sorted out. It's not done yet, but it's far enough along that I feel like I can start posting chapters again. So! Here we go._

As soon as it was fully light, we moved out. Vincent's presence sped things up immensely, as he was able to shoot any hostile creatures before they got close enough to attack us. We reached Nibelheim easily; we re-fueled Fenrir and got some food before moving on. I thought about stopping to buy new shorts – why Yuffie likes hers so tight I can't imagine, but then again she doesn't ride a motorcycle, and come to think of it she's probably narrower than me by now... But I didn't want to waste any time getting back to Rocket Town, and in the end that was a probably a good thing.

We hit the Nibelheim highway before noon. It was smooth going about halfway there, but as the road curved around the foot of the mountains, two old cars were parked, one on either side of the road. As we passed by, the driver of one let out a whoop: "That's them! Go!" Both cars roared to life, and I smelled the familiar pungent odor of burning mako. Mako fuel being illegal for at least a year now, it must be incredibly rare and expensive. To see two mako-burning cars was alarming enough – but now they were chasing us! In Fenrir's rear-view mirror I saw a pair of arms holding a large gun emerge from each passenger-side window, and I cursed myself for not having my old shield materia. Vincent leaned in towards my ear.

"Hang on tight, and keep as steady as you can. Don't worry about me." With that, he leapt up in the air to stand on the back of Fenrir, firing backward at the enemy cars. Bullets ricocheted back and forth with a deafening rattle. Vincent was keeping them occupied, drawing their fire, so that none of them hit me; he was a good enough dodger that none of them hit him, either, or if they did, bounced off his armored glove. His sense of balance was impressive. The shooting continued for what seemed like an eternity; a glance in the mirror told me that Vincent was using both his pistols. I was confident he would fend them off – but as we passed the exit for the North Corel area, two more armed cars joined the fray. The new cars, of the same type (and using the same fuel!) continued forward, their gunners aiming backward at us. My heart sank, and fear knotted at my stomach: we were surrounded.

"Vincent!" I cried out, but he had already seen them. His red eyes flashed briefly in the mirror, and my courage returned. We exchanged nods, with an unspoken understanding: each of us would do whatever needed to be done. With that, Vincent leapt off the back of Fenrir and onto the hood of the nearest vehicle.

Meanwhile, I surged forward and without thinking drew both my energy swords. Steering with my knees, I used the swords to deflect bullets as best I could, dodging the few that got through. Using this method, I was able to get right up close to one of the cars, on the driver's side where there was no gun. I had a plan, now. Spinning one of my swords like a propeller was difficult, but I managed it, and that was enough to block the bullets from the other car. Still spinning the sword in my left hand as best as I could, I sliced through the car door with the sword in my right. A couple more slices and the door fell apart. Panicking, the driver pointed a handgun at me, but the poor misguided bastard never stood a chance. As the car veered wildly, the gunman in the passenger seat lunged for the steering wheel. I quickly hit Fenrir's brakes and let the cars speed on ahead of me. The gunman was too slow in getting his dead comrade out of the way, and the car veered off the highway and right into a boulder. The mako fuel in its tank burst into green flames as the metal crumpled.

A quick glance in my rear-view mirror showed Vincent and his cloak weaving an intricate dance of death. All that was visible of him was a crimson... something, an amorphous, ragged ball that bounced from car to car discharging bullets. Several more cars had arrived, and all of them were already thoroughly riddled with bullet-holes. While it was clear Vincent was doing considerable damage, he needed help.

I spun around and drove head-on towards the oncoming cars. I passed between two of them, destroying the wheels on the side closest to me. They spun out of control; I pulled away, out of the way of the ensuing wreckage. Vincent had a clear shot of the last driver, from the hood of another car. The gunman still inside was preoccupied with Vincent; I drove up behind him and removed his gun arm, followed quickly by his head. The now-driverless car slowed to a stop; I sped past it, drawing the fire of the two remaining gunmen. Vincent made short work of one, then the other. One driver attempted shooting and driving at the same time, and that was the end of both him and his last comrade. He accidentally accellerated, ramming into the car ahead with enough force to flip them both over in a crashing tangle of twisted metal and burning mako. With Vincent back behind me, I sped ahead out of the wreckage, my ears ringing.

"Vincent," I called backward a few minutes later, "just how many cars were there, in the end?"

"I wasn't counting," he said coldly, and I smiled. He hadn't lost his edge.

When we finally arrived back in Rocket Town, I was more than a little dazed. Yuffie came bounding out of the house as she heard the motorcycle running and swept me up in a tight hug the second my feet hit the ground.

"Yaaaaaaay! Shelkie, you made it!" She let me go long enough to turn towards the house and let out a big yell.

"Hey EVERYBODY! THEY'RE BACK!" She turned around and gave me another crushing hug, squealing, before running towards the house impatiently. "HEY_ EVERYBODY!"_

I looked back at Vincent and shrugged before taking my helmet off and heading towards the house after her. The fact that she had only greeted me and not Vincent left a small, cold feeling in my stomach. I remembered how I had reassured Vincent's very soul that she was waiting for him; the idea that I might have led him on was almost too much for my mind to fathom after the carnage I had both caused and witnessed barely more than an hour before. There were bloodstains on my shoes.

As we headed towards the house, the others came out to meet us. Cid was first, followed by Yuffie, who was pushing Cloud and Tifa out the door ahead of her with one hand and dragging Reeve along behind with the other. Cid stopped dead in his tracks, looking bewildered. He stood that way for a few seconds, leaving me entirely puzzled until I remembered my last growth spurt. I was embarrassed for a moment, then a little smug.

"Well," he said finally. "Well, I'll be dipped in shit and rolled in cracker crumbs."

"Nice to see you too," I said with a smirk. "Vincent's back too, in case anyone's interested." I was a little irritated that two people in a row had failed to acknowledge him.

I turned to look where he was, and saw him and Yuffie trying very hard not to look at each other.

Shera, ever-resourceful, saved the awkward moment with a cheery "Well, come on in and have some hot chocolate, why don't you?" I gladly obeyed, as did the others, and Yuffie and Vincent were left alone on the porch.

Once inside, with a mug of delicious-smelling chocolate in my hand, I was greeted with several sets of very expectant eyes. I heaved a sigh and attempted to summarize everything.

"Okay. So basically, I got to the cave yesterday morning. Vincent was unconscious – like he must have been when you first found him. I tried waking him; nothing happened." I paused and blew on my chocolate; the warm, comforting steam lent me courage to say what I had to. "I didn't have much of a choice, really. I couldn't just leave him there, and I couldn't wake him from the outside." I swallowed hard, trying not to worry about what they might think. "...So I did an SND into his mind."

The words sounded strange coming out of my mouth so nonchalantly; a day ago, I might have felt sheepish about what I had done – but that day I had killed several men, who had been attacking me for no apparent reason. I should have felt "badass," as Yuffie would put it; this was nothing new for me. What was new was that I had killed these men _as myself,_ not as a tiny underling under the influence of the ominous, invisible Weiss. In a short space of time, of my own free will, I had wreaked destruction on a large number of people, nearly drowned, and saved Vincent from his own mind. I felt numb, as if nothing could ever surprise me again. There was no being sheepish now.

Wide eyes watched me take another sip of chocolate. Reeve was the first to speak, his face wearing its usual concerned expression.

"How... how did it go?"

I sighed. "It was... tiring. Emotionally draining. Everything you'd expect from speaking directly to the unconscious mind of a tormented person you care for." I swallowed the lump that rose in my throat at the thought of his inner vulnerability. "But basically I went as far back into his mind as I could go, until I could speak with him directly. It was a huge risk, I know; one false step could have driven us both insane, or brought me into conflict with one of his... tenants." I shuddered, remembering once again the blank void of Hellmaker's eyes. "It isn't the first time I've invaded a person's mind. But in the past I had to remain undetected and gather data. This was the only time I've had to actually manipulate what I found there. I'd... rather not talk about it, really," I ended lamely. Somehow I felt that what had transpired in Vincent's mind ought to remain there. It was uncomfortable enough that I had invaded his very being in the first place. "Anyway, there are more important issues here. On our way back, on the highway after Nibelheim, we were attacked."

Cloud leaned forward, alarmed. "Attacked? By who?..." I read an unspoken _"...or by what?"_ in his icy eyes, an eerie reminder of all he had experienced.

"We don't know. There were several armed cars; two chased us as we came around the mountains, then several more joined us around the exit for North Corel. I don't know how many there were in total; more than five. The first two probably called for reinforcements... They were old cars, running on mako fuel. We destroyed all of them; I'm fairly sure there were no survivors. Still, I can't help but wonder if it has to do with what we did to the snowfire operation. It's possible they may have found out who was behind its destruction. In which case... We could be in danger. Judging by the sheer numbers that attacked us today, I think that's likely. This was definitely a pre-meditated attack. They were expecting us, and they knew who to expect." _Luckily_, I thought to myself, _they didn't expect what we were capable of._

Reeve nodded sharply. "I will go back to Midgar and see what I can dig up. In the meantime, everyone – you and Vincent especially – should leave here at once. There is a chance your presence will have been traced back here, in which case, we are _all_ in danger if we remain. I'll call Rufus. Someone will have to interrupt Yuffie and Vincent – we need to act immediately."

I nodded, and headed for the door. I almost went out, but my courage had run out. I then remembered my invisibility. As I had once before, I slipped through the door silently and crouched in the shadows under the window, listening.

"I just... I think I just need to go back to doing _me_ for a while, y'know?" Yuffie was explaining. "I mean, I need to figure myself out, like, what I want, who I _am..._ I mean, I know who I _am, __**obviously**_, but you know what I mean, like, I need to know what that _means,_ y'know? What does it _mean_ to be the mighty Yuffie Kisaragi, and what are her _goals _in life, right? And... I feel like I wouldn't even be asking that if I hadn't met you. And you're awesome, and I'm glad you're... you know, here again and stuff." A shadow of a smile lifted one corner of Vincent's mouth, stirring a familiar ache in me. "But... I mean..." Yuffie flapped her hands as if trying to extract her words from the air. Vincent stood up and took her hyperactive hands in his.

"Yuffie – it's alright. Do what you need to do. Just be happy." He smiled, and had I been standing, I surely would have collapsed in a heap.

She beamed up at him. "Thanks, Vinny. I knew you'd get it. And I'm glad you came back." She gave him one of her signature hugs, then skipped happily away into the house. I turned to watch her go in, and once inside I heard her muffled voice calling merrily, "Alright, let's have some of that chocolate!"

I turned back around to see Vincent looking out into the dusk, towards the rubble where the town's namesake rocket used to be. It had grown dark – about the time of day when everything is tinted blue – and fireflies were dancing all around the house, reminding me eerily of mako sparks. Crickets chirped in the silence. It was disappointing, somehow, after all I had done to bring them together – and yet at the same time I had to admit it was for the better. Yuffie needed time to mature, and both were wise enough to see it. Vincent's reaction had filled me with relief; for one terrified moment I had thought all my good work in bringing him back was about to be undone, just like that. But Vincent is a little more stoic than I gave him credit for, it seems. I was pondering how to approach him without letting on that I had been eavesdropping, when he spoke. He sounded amused.

"You may be transparent, but you're not invisible. Or inaudible, for that matter. And was that a disembodied mug of hot chocolate I saw lurking by the door a moment ago?"

He turned around and looked right at the spot where I was sitting. Cursing inwardly at my carelessness, I switched off the cloaking device and stood up. The combined effect of Vincent himself and my embarrassment at having been caught was more than enough to render me speechless. Blushing violently and staring resolutely at my feet, I shuffled forward to stand beside him, chocolate in hand. We stood there for a minute, perhaps, but it felt like half an hour. I couldn't look at him, but I felt his gaze, and knew he was watching me with that rakish smirk still on his face. Only the crickets filled the awkward silence.

Finally, I took a deep breath and found my voice. "Reeve needs to talk to you. I told him about the attack. He says we should leave here as soon as possible." I saw Vincent nod out of the corner of my eye, then instinctively hunched my shoulders as he drew close. That didn't last long; a clawed hand rested lightly on my shoulder, and suddenly I was made of jelly.

"Shelke..."

My face wanted to look upwards at his, but I wouldn't let it; I turned my head to look at the ground – but a strong hand in a leather glove seized my chin, firmly but gently turning my face upward, and I was forced to meet Vincent's gaze. His unnerving red eyes were mellow, maybe even affectionate. My spine tingled; it was almost too much to bear.

"Thank you," he said, and looking into his eyes, I understood all that he meant. He was thanking me for bringing him back, and for bringing him and Yuffie together. He wasn't sad at all – on the contrary, he looked genuinely grateful. There was something else there, a look I had seen before and couldn't place, nor did I want to; I only wanted to get away, because if I stayed there much longer I might tell him how I felt. Somehow I couldn't bear that, as if the words would come alive and eat me if I spoke them. His eyes looking so intently into mine, and his _everything _so close to me, were taking my breath away. I couldn't take it any longer; my eyes welled up with tears and I tore my gaze back to the floor. It wasn't fair.

"Don't thank me! Please..." I blurted out. "I just want you to be happy." I broke free and hurried inside, hastily drying my eyes on my sleeve before hurrying to my room. I threw myself on the bed and took a few deep breaths, before realizing I had left my hot chocolate on the porch.

I should probably go back out and get it. I think I can walk again. If he only knew...

_So... Yeah. I wrote a violent car chase. Go me. ^_^_


	17. Chapter 17

_FYI: Aino is a Finnish name meaning "the only one" (also a pun on Japanese "ai no..."_ = _"...of love") and Aputsiaq means "snowflake" in Greenlandic. Since this chapter is so short, I'll post the next one very soon. Double feature! ^_^_

After I left off last night, I came back out to the living room, where everyone had gathered. Vincent sat on the arm of a chair; he held out my mug to me as I came in the room. I took it wordlessly and sat down on the floor at his feet. I was too tired to be embarrassed anymore. Reeve was addressing the whole group.

"I've spoken to Rufus Shinra, and also to Tseng. The Turks, working with the WRO, have uncovered some new developments in relation to the Midgar situation, and Shelke and Vincent's encounter earlier today. Our successful annihilation of the snowfire operation has angered its head, a mysterious man who calls himself Aino Aputsiaq, usually referred to as simply Aino. He is at the heart of the snowfire operation, and has ties all over Edge. Urban legend states him to be the wealthiest man in Midgar; he has connections all across the city. He throws wild parties frequently for what is left of Midgar's elite, and whoever else can afford to buy a ticket or ingratiate themselves onto the guest list. This is a very dangerous man, with a great many allies." Reeve's perpetual frown turned deeper. "There is no evidence to suggest that his henchmen have traced the WRO's presence to a definite location; our headquarters is very carefully concealed. However, they do know that this is who perpetrated the attack on the snowfire still outside Nibelheim. I suggest we all leave this place as soon as possible – I'm afraid that includes you, Cid, and Shera as well. All of us are associated with each other, and therefore in danger. I will return to Edge, preferably with a small party. Vincent, Shelke: as they may know you by sight, I think returning to Edge would be unwise. I discussed all of this with Rufus, and we have agreed on a plan. We will all fly back to Junon on the airship. From there, we will split up into two groups; I will go with one back to Edge, while Shelke and Vincent will head for another location. What that location should be we have not yet decided – but we will have plenty of time to discuss that on the way to Junon. For now, I recommend we leave immediately."

The idea was mind-numbing to me at first. I couldn't stay in Junon; we might very well be traced there. I couldn't return to Edge, or stay here, or go back to Nibelheim. None of the places familiar to me were safe. I thought wistfully about Junon, remembering the thrill of letting the ocean lift me off my feet... In DeepGround, I had never had time to think about "home;" the concept ceased to make sense. There was no place that was comforting or even safe, and no time to question the validity of that situation – that would have required an imagination, and by the time I was a Tsviet, that had been all but destroyed, what was left carefully controlled to serve only my missions. This longing for a secure haven was both new and very, very old; I had given up yearning for home many years ago. To feel something like homesickness again was paralyzing, and I tuned out, lost in thought and memories. I remember the rest of the night only vaguely; I gathered that we were to leave at dawn, and started packing. When I had finished, I curled up fully-clothed next to the suitcase and lost consciousness.

Speaking of mind-numbing – I feel as if I've been travelling forever! We reached Junon early in the morning (I got to see another beautiful sunrise from the airship). Rufus found two bodyguards of similar proportions to Vincent and I; they boarded the airship disguised as us, and Vincent and I took their places at Rufus' side and led him onto the ship. Then came an exchange; Rufus handed our clothes back to us in an unmarked package. We returned, still in Shinra uniform, to Rufus' penthouse as instructed (he gave us a key). Inside the package were not only our old clothes but new ones as well, fake passports and a note from Reeve explaining the plan. We were to change clothes somewhere inconspicuous, then board an overnight ship to Costa del Sol. Then, we would take the train on the new railway from there to North Corel, then the tram to the Gold Saucer. Someone would meet us at the hotel there and take us to our final destination.

I took time on the airship to rest and think instead of compulsively writing (like I am now, ha) and that left me much less overwhelmed. I had energy to spare, and watching the sun rise from the airship somehow left me with a more positive outlook on things. True, I would be going unfamiliar places in dangerous circumstances – but since when were dangerous circumstances new to me, and why did going unfamiliar places have to be frightening? Mere days ago I left Midgar for the first time in my _life,_ under circumstances that were less than safe. And what happened? I enjoyed myself, defeated evildoers, rescued my friend, fought by his side, and now I'm traveling to see some more unfamiliar places that will surely be interesting and exciting. I will admit I do miss my little kitten... It feels like ages since we've been gone, though it has barely been a week, if even that. It seems like every day feels like at least two days rolled into one since we've been gone – so many things keep happening...!

In any case, I was glad to see some action, and I must admit, the excitement of being in disguise again was great. I thought about my early missions with Reeve, and was startled to realize that I had been able to pass for a child then. That was mere days ago! As it happens, though, our disguise was more practical this way.

Vincent was to be a blind man; this would allow him to wear large sunglasses and hide his distinctive red eyes. For me, Reeve packed my old contact lenses, slightly modified so that I wouldn't be distracted by seeing all the ship's mechanics through the walls, but still adequately hiding the telltale mako glow. He left the scenario up to me, and it was very easy to construct. I was Vincent's younger sister, taking him to Costa Del Sol to see a distant relative who specialized in alternative medicine and thought she might be able to fix his eyes. I explained this to him cheerfully and showed him how to walk, borrowing an inconspicuous cane of Rufus' while explaining that he wouldn't mind since it was for a mission. Vincent smirked and said I was reminding him of Yuffie, to which (not surprisingly) I blushed violently and stammered while he looked amused. He then suggested that the cane was impractical and I should simply guide him around by hand, which left me entirely speechless. I, spend the whole trip with him at my elbow, or worse still, _holding my hand? _I had to wonder if he was doing this to me on purpose. The idea that he might know my feelings for him embarrasses me greatly, and since I have yet to get the hang of properly coping with embarrassment, this is something I won't go into. I may still have a long way to go, but at least I'm honest with myself! That's more than many ostensibly saner people can say for themselves...

The ship is massive. The tickets must have cost a fortune; people like the ones we are pretending to be would have had to really stretch! As it is, we may as well take advantage of it. It's a little stuffy indoors; that and focusing on the page while feeling the boat move is making me a little queasy. I think I'll take my blind brother out on the deck for some air – if I get seasick and he compares me to Yuffie again I might die.

_So... Next chapter goes up tomorrow, or even today if I get impatient. Sorry about the slow pacing and all, but nobody's complained about the character development so far so I'm guessing I'm doing it right? If I'm not, please do tell me – I'm in this to become a better writer, not just as an excuse to imagine Vincent Valentine smirking at every possible opportunity. (I don't need an excuse for that.) Anyway, please do review if you have anything to say – I appreciate the feedback._


	18. Chapter 18

_Another shorty. Kind of a "filler" chapter, this one, if you want to call it that... Then again if you didn't like character development, you'd probably have quit reading this story long ago. If feelings gross you out, you'll just have to hold out for a few more days. :P_

How disappointing – I was barely outside for a minute, it seemed, before we got herded back down below again. They said only authorized personnel were allowed on the deck after dark because it was dangerous; I suppose that's fair, especially since Vincent is supposed to be blind – but it was gorgeous! The cool breeze was blowing, and I got to watch the sun set over the water... The water! I really do love the ocean, and to be out there floating on it, with the gentle waves stretching out as far as the eye can see... Amazing. The sun dyed the sky a wonderful bright orange that faded into a deep purple like a fresh bruise. It would convey the majesty of it much better if I could come up with a less gruesome simile, but that's my mind...

Our sleeping quarters aren't so bad, really – there is a tiny little round window that looks out straight into the water. Sadly, no much can be seen through it, since the only light is the faint yellow glow leaking out from all the other little round windows... Once in a while I catch the silhouette of a curious fish. I wish I could see more!

I did wander around the ship for a while, but I've seen all I want to see. Now, having nothing to look at and not being tired leaves me with only one choice – and that, sadly, is to think. Vincent seems to have the power to shut down like a computer at will, so I can't pester him for any attention, either. Exploring the ship, I realized just how huge it is. There's the big level here below the deck, with all the sleeping quarters. Above that is the deck, and there's a restaurant in the middle with windows that look out onto the deck. Next to that is the cabin, where the ship's controls are. I know this because of the way Reeve modified my contact lenses. Normally, their ability to view electronics are turned off – but if I squinch my eyes shut and hold for three seconds, it turns on again! I can do the same again to turn it back off. He must have known I would be bored – and, it may come in handy at some point, who knows!

Anyway, above that are the really expensive quarters, and on the top floor is a bar/lounge. I did venture in, but my fake passport says I'm too young to drink, and when I saw the prices, I realized it was a moot point anyway. My initial impression of the people there reinforced my impression that I should leave, too. Those that weren't richly dressed were wearing what I could tell were imitations of the more expensive outfits there. They were all behaving just a bit oddly, and it made the feeling in the whole room _strange_. Some of them were clearly drunk, but many of them were something else. There was something undefinably wrong with them and their movements that I had never seen before. I stood inconspicuously beside the door, watching for a moment. I saw a group of young women come out of the bathroom staggering a little, giggling and grinning, and realized with a start that the pupils of their eyes were so tiny I could hardly see them from that distance. It was then it began to dawn on me what was going on.

I never go anywhere without my trusty cloaking device, and since most everyone in the room seemed to be high, I decided that if they were perceptive enough to notice a ghost sneak into the bathroom, they would consider it less worth investigating than an underaged girl far beneath their social status. Sneak into the bathroom I did. No-one was there, and I was not in the least bit surprised to find traces of blue dust on the counter beside the sinks. I shuddered as memories came back to me of the destruction of the snowfire still, and I began to realize all the repercussions of what we had done. As I realized that only people as rich as the ones on this ship could afford the drug now (being in short supply, it was surely exorbitant in price), so I began to realize that violence would have worsened dramatically as a result of people not getting their fix. I had endangered my whole group of friends, and myself – and had I achieved anything, in the end? To top it all off, the very thing I had put everything on the line to eradicate, the substance at the very root of why I am running away in hiding, had followed me here. I stepped back from the counter and stared at the empty mirror until it gave me the creeps. I stealthily slipped out of the bathroom and walked around for a while, watching the people.

They were disturbing. Some of them pawed at each other, unable to control their impulses; some of them drank on top of their high, glass after glass of sickly-sweet fizzy liquor. All around me I saw glassy eyes, seeing nothing real. I remembered Reeve's words about the drug lord, Aino, how he would throw parties for the rich. Some of the people here had probably been there, and the thought of a whole mansion full of them made me ill. I left, taking a quicker route by sliding down the banister the whole way. That made me feel a little better, and realizing it was probably what Yuffie would have done cheered me up the rest of the way. I looked invisibly out the restaurant windows for a while, but the glare of the ship's lights against the glass made the scenery just a dark, formless void. I gave up and returned to the cabin to find Vincent out cold and nothing left for me to do but ponder in silence.

There's no use deliberating over whether or not our actions have done any good. Either they have, or they haven't; if the latter is true, that is unfortunate, but we have no choice but to try something else, and we will likely be briefed on what that something else is very soon. In any case, what we have done has already been done and cannot be changed. However disturbing my experience upstairs was, dwelling on it will do no good. We did what we believed to the best of our knowledge and understanding to be right. That is all we could have done. So, that line of thinking is out of order.

The subject of the only train of thought that is left is sprawled across the bottom bunk of the bed next to mine, sound asleep. If only I could sleep that well.

This isn't the first time I've painted myself into a corner with only my own mind for company, and I know better than to try to ignore what it has to say. And yet, it's not as if it's telling me anything new. It's not that – it's that I have yet to let it finish its sentences, because I know what it's going to say and I don't want to hear about it.

Remember _why_ you have this diary, Shelke? To write down your thoughts, to put them into words, to make sense of them. Do it, now.

I know, I _know._ Dilly-dally shilly-shally. It's because I'm afraid of what it will mean to accept it. That sounds stupid on the surface; accepting things as they are will change nothing – but that's just what I'm afraid of. It's easier to deny the fact that I'm in love than it is to accept the fact that I might not be loved back. If being in love makes no difference to the state of things, then I'd rather not be. I can't change the fact that I am, but I can pretend it's not so... But that does no good. As I heard Barrett say once, you can only swallow your tongue so many times before you choke on it.

And now that I can't pretend to myself anymore what do I do? Just carry on living exactly as before?

It's just that simple, right?

Actually, it _is_ that simple. It's not like I can do anything else. There is nothing I can do; therefore, do nothing. It's probably the simplest equation there is.

Now, if it were _really_ that simple, then it wouldn't be awkward at all for me to tiptoe down from my bunk to lie warm and cozy with my face buried in his hair, would it?

We've been through a great deal these past few days, and may have many battles ahead of us. I should probably be grateful for the fact that for the next few hours, the greatest challenge I face will be to stay in my own bed.

_Keep them reviews comin', if you please. Also, if any of you have input on where you'd like the (currently one-sided) romantic element of the story to go (or _not_ go as the case may be), please share! I'm curious as to what people think, just in general. The plot is lagging at this point and will continue to do so for a couple more chapters, but I assure you things are actually happening. So yeah. Feedback is good._


	19. Chapter 19

_Here's a nice long one, and in over 3000 words it somehow manages to barely move the plot forward at all. Aren't I awesome? :P Seriously, though, I promise there will be some more senseless violence soon._

I didn't sleep at all. What a horror of a night... Then, we got caught in a storm around dawn and had to stay out at sea until it blew over, which wasn't until early afternoon. It was not pleasant; hour after hour of the ship heaving up and down and up and down and rolling disturbingly from side to side, shrieks and breaking glass from upstairs... Vincent and I were probably almost the only people who weren't seasick, and if I had tried to read or write or focus on anything I would have been ill myself. We were lucky to be on the bottom, where the least amount of sideways motion was. I tried to go watch the storm from the windows upstairs, but the restaurant floor was covered with broken glass. There really should have been some crew around, cleaning up the mess and advising me not to wander around so recklessly, but no-one was there... Out the window I could see that huge waves were lifting us high up in the air and flinging us back down again to be slapped violently by smaller waves. The wind was roaring, blowing rain sideways. As the massive ship tossed and turned, pools of spilled drinks, condiments, and vomit rolled slowly back and forth across the shards of ill-fated kitchenware. The restaurant was deserted, and I wisely retreated as well. The acrid smell of bacon, eggs, boiled-over coffee and stomach contents was too much for me... But the view out the window really was spectacular. The power of the sea is fascinating, and somehow, although my common sense told me our situation was dangerous, the waves themselves didn't frighten me at all.

Back in our room, Vincent and I looked over the train schedule Reeve had provided and determined that we wouldn't make it to the Golden Saucer until much later than planned. Reeve's envoy would have to be notified – but out at sea, there was no signal for the PDA to work with. It would have to wait until we were ashore, and the wait was frustrating. I began to worry; our safety depended on us getting away, and I felt that this storm was holding us conveniently in place. The ship was rocking too violently for me to even write my thoughts down, and I began to feel helpless, a feeling I can't stand. I told Vincent my concerns, explaining what I had seen upstairs the night before. He assured me that since I hadn't been noticed, we had no reason to fear, and we simply had to wait it out. What patience... In the end, he was right. The waiting was nightmarish for me, but in the end no harm came to us. The storm cleared up, and we were able to land around 1 in the afternoon.

Once we were off the boat, I quickly sent a message to Reeve, and received a prompt reply: "No problem. Guide already at Gold Saucer; works there. Spend night at Haunted Hotel, meet in hotel lobby at 0700 tomorrow. Guide will pay for dinner; see hotel reception." It was simple enough, and would give us a chance to rest. At the same time, it irritated me that we were delayed; I preferred to get to our final destination as quickly as possible. I still had a lingering fear of being followed, and I hated knowing that we were running away. Once we get to where we can just stay in one place, I think I'll relax a little more – hiding is easier than running.

Costa Del Sol is an oddly contradictory place, blending natural beauty with bad taste. The moment I saw the beach, I wanted to stay. The sand was very fine and almost white. The water was surprisingly clear, with a greenish tint to it. Trees like I had never seen before were standing all around; I know from the tourist pamphlet Reeve sent with us that they are called palm trees, and are native to the area. Their sharp-edged fronds waved invitingly in the wind, still blowing strong from the storm. I watched the storm-blown green waves rushing in to shore and wanted very much to forget my current quest and let them sweep me up. The sand and sun were warm and inviting, and the wind, though strong, was warm as well. I wanted so very badly to take off my shoes and bury my feet in the sand, and get splashed by the waves – but I knew from reading the pamphlet that the water would be warm, and so I also knew that if I got so much as my toes wet I would never leave. Not without some regret, I tore my eyes away from the beach and we headed into town.

The town itself I did not like. It was made up mostly of hotels, spas and restaurants, all of them overpriced. In the middle of it all was a nucleus of fast-food, bars, dance clubs and gift shops; this is where the train station was. It seemed like very few people were actually residents there – the place bases its entire existence around tourism, and most of the locals work at the hotels. On the other side of the railroad tracks, behind a hospital, there is a village of tiny, ramshackle houses; from what I can tell, this is where the non-tourists live. Though I could have spent day after day on that sunlit beach, I felt ill at ease among the other people in town. People in expensive summer clothes meandered by with cocktails in plastic cups, wafting a combination of alcohol and sugar that smelled like rotten fruit. Some of them eyed us with mild disdain, but most of them seemed to not even notice that we were there. I could tell that some of them were high, and it made me angry. I wanted to yell at them, beat them up (as I knew I could); I wished I could somehow show them the suffering they were contributing to... But you can't teach someone empathy. I tried not to stare, and held my anger inside.

We consulted the train schedule (or rather, to keep up our charade, I consulted the train schedule and discussed it with Vincent) and determined that we had some time to kill. I went and got us some fried seafood at a stall, and then we sat on a bench in the station and ate it in silence. I had thought food might do me some good, but after only a couple of bites I felt full. My stomach was full of other things: the anger I had swallowed, the fear I had been struggling to keep down, and the ache of longing that had been slowly building over many days.

The more time I spend with Vincent, the more it aches. Lucrecia's data, though mostly defragmented now, still responds to his presence. It's always been like that, of course, and most of the time I can fight it off or ignore it. It's such a minor, frequent annoyance that I've never bothered to write the associations down; I figured if I didn't dwell on them, they would go away. And yet, even the simple act of letting him hold my arm brings associations to the surface, only some of which are mine; I shove them back and focus on the present and on my own perceptions. But last night, when it began to happen, there was nothing I could do. I was trying to sleep, and I knew that writing more wouldn't do any good. Finding me defenseless, the memories began a morbid dance around my brain. Everything I had spent time repressing until then came to the surface, the surreality of painful memories not even my own. So many regrets bubbled around me; I was awash in a sea of Lucrecia's pain. Whenever I tried to close my eyes, I was faced with events that happened before I was born; whenever I tried to open them, I was faced with the reality of the present. Both were uncomfortable and unalterable, and however much I might struggle, there was no escape. I had no choice but to lie there and let the memories rage, and they raged all night. Exhaustion had made me vulnerable; my mako-enhanced body could carry on, but my mind and spirit were utterly worn out, and needed rest that I couldn't seem to find. I had held it together, more or less, throughout the storm, but now things were catching back up to me again.

So I sat staring sullenly at my food, and Vincent noticed. This put me in the unfortunate place of having to explain myself. I couldn't lie – he would know immediately. Nor could I tell the full truth; that would be unbearably awkward. I felt his eyes watching me from behind the sunglasses, and it made me terribly self-conscious. All the tragic history he carried with him was perilously close in my mind.

"I... I'm..." Words were failing me, and tears sprung to my eyes. I managed to hold back a sob, but I couldn't stop the flood. I hid my face in my hands and wept silently, trying to regain control.

"I'm a little stressed out," I finally squeaked, mopping at my eyes with a napkin.

Vincent watched me inscrutably for a moment. Then he snorted.

"Hmph. The girl who saved my life and helped save the planet, single-handedly sabotaged the biggest drug operation currently known and grew ten years in a week says she's 'a little stressed out?' Don't make me laugh."

I relaxed a little at his familiar sarcasm, knowing that he didn't think less of me for being weak, and realizing at the same time that I wasn't nearly as weak as I thought I was. Even by _Avalanche_ standards I had been through a great deal. It was just as he said, but with the added weight of what (I hoped) he didn't know about my inner turmoil. I was entitled to a breakdown at this point, and I could count on Vincent to be functioning at 100%. I didn't have to be stronger than I was, and that was a relief.

At the same time, his choice of words made me wonder just what it would take to make Vincent actually laugh. Yuffie would have taken "don't make me laugh" as a challenge; I wondered about the possible consequences of tickling him, but didn't get very far because the very idea was beyond imagining.

Unable to tell anymore whether I was crying or laughing hysterically, I let whatever it was run its course. Vincent was silent again. I suppose he was amused, or perhaps even sympathetic, but I was beyond paying attention. When I recovered a little, I realized I was ravenous, and devoured my seafood. It was greasy and no longer hot, but that didn't matter. When the carton was empty, I sat back with a huge sigh. I was too tired to be embarrassed about how tired I was, and didn't object when Vincent took the empty carton and plastic fork out of my hands and pulled me close to him. The contact should have been agonizing, but it seemed as though my brain was a computer trying to conserve battery power, and the applications "Lucrecia" and "Angst" had been shut down automatically. (If only I knew how to delete them altogether...) So I let him be a pillow if he wanted to, and dozed off against a muscular shoulder that still smelled faintly of leather in spite of new clothes. As I faded into sleep, his hand was gently ruffling my hair – remembering it, I could almost purr. In retrospect the feeling is almost jarring, because of one thing that was different: because Vincent was in disguise, he didn't have his usual leather gloves on, or the brass gauntlet. The tantalizing bareness of that hand was oddly comforting then; thinking about it now drives me wild.

My rest was probaby brief, but it was mercilessly dreamless. I woke up to a deep rumbling and Vincent's voice softly in my ear: "Time to go." I nodded groggily and steeled myself for the rest of the journey, knowing what our disguise required of me: it had to look like Vincent was depending on me, and not just vice versa. I had to act like I knew what I was doing.

I shuffled out onto the platform with Vincent holding my elbow, gradually becoming alert to our surroundings. The rumbling grew louder as the train pulled into the station. I had not seen a train in many, many years, if indeed ever, and it was fascinating to watch. The driver wasn't immediately visible, and so it was easy to imagine that the train was autonomous or even alive. A great, dark caterpillar-serpent monster with one luminous eye, belching fire from its head and roaring as it hurtled from place to place... I felt disturbingly like I might be still asleep on the bench, and dreaming.

The massive black steam engine screeched to a halt, and all the cars behind it opened their doors and disgorged a few people, then proceeded to let everyone on. A massive number of people had showed up while I had been sleeping, but we were able to get a seat quickly because of Vincent's supposed handicap. The ride was brief, and we reached North Corel in late afternoon, just as the sun was getting low in the sky. Someone came by selling coffee, which helped revive me a little. On the way, Vincent gave me a brief history of North Corel – how it had been a coal-mining town, its ill fate at the hands of the Shinra company, how Barret got his grudge and his gun-arm, and how Marlene came to be in his care. Barret's misfortune and subsequent redemption was a story I had never heard before, nor had I even paused to wonder about Marlene. It was the longest I had heard Vincent speak for, and though I don't remember his exact words, his voice held me captivated. He is not a man of many words, but the few he speaks carry all the weight of those that are left unspoken.

We got off the train and were quickly swept up in the crowd that was headed for the Gold Saucer cable car, which called itself the Ropeway. Vincent stayed calmly attached to my elbow, but the sheer number of people jostling all around was making me nervous. My anxieties about our mission were beginning to resurface.

"Shouldn't we lose our disguises somewhere?" I said quietly, getting impatient.

"At the hotel. It's safer that way."

"Somehow I'm not convinced that the Gold Saucer has many activities for the visually impaired," I pointed out. "We might seem peculiar."

"Then we'll say we're there for the rollercoasters. They're more exciting when you can't see." Vincent seemed confident, so I humored him, and tried to remember that being afraid of the situation would not improve it.

In the end, nobody asked us any questions. We were universally ignored as part of the crowd; it seems everyone was so absorbed in their own companions and the excitement of what was to come that we went unnoticed. I was going to describe the view to Vincent just in case anyone was paying attention; it seemed like what a good sister would do. But as we drew near, a mob of small children raced to the front of the car and loudly and enthusiastically did that job for me. Though Vincent still held my elbow when we stood up, I didn't even have time to tell him to watch his step; we were caught up in a veritable river of people. It was just as well he isn't really blind – had he tripped on the stairs we would surely have been trampled.

The Gold Saucer is the most absurd place I've ever seen. It is a massive, gold-plated... _thing_ that rises up out of the desert like some sort of fantastic plant with "amusements" on every leaf. Immediately on arrival, I was assaulted by a cacophony of sights and sounds the likes of which were completely new to me. I wasn't sure if I was enchanted or appalled. Overstimulated, definitely; though I have yet to taste alcohol, I found myself suddenly wanting some in order to cope with my surroundings.

The Ropeway emerged into a brightly lit room with a lady at a desk at the far end. To my relief, Vincent did the talking, and due to his supposed condition, the lady handed me a map just in case we had trouble navigating the place. As it happens, it was easy to find – a sign that said HAUNTED HOTEL directed us to slide down a chute that somehow, after many twists and turns, spat us out in front of the very place we sought. Vincent let go of his pretended blindness, we checked in under our false names, and finally I felt that we were safe. I showered for the first time in many days; it was exhilarating.

And then, at last, some time to kill! We left the hotel and explored. The map was helpful for getting around the various areas; getting in between them was simple enough, and everything was clearly marked. This was a relief, because the place is huge, and the strange chutes that lead from one platform of activities to another and seem to defy physics are disorienting. We went on several rollercoasters, and Vincent's theory proved true – they were even more exciting with eyes shut, hurtling blindly through space... It seemed we could ride all night, but eventually I got dizzy. Reeve's envoy had left a gift certificate for us at the hotel's reception desk; it was for The Gold Platter, the park's famous restaurant. I put on the most presentable clothes I could manage, and off we went. We were treated with a smirkingly delicate manner that made it obvious we were assumed to be a couple. Embarrassing though that was (at least for me; it's hard to tell how Vincent takes anything), it turned out alright: the waiter gave us a free pass for the gondola ride, a cable car that runs all around the Saucer. If we left right after dinner, he said, we could make it in time to watch the nightly fireworks display from the sky. And so we did, narrowly escaping the offer to share a dessert by using the time as an excuse. ("Will you be wanting dessert? Our special tonight is our signature Golden Love-Boat chocolate fondue – it's for two..." I wanted to order a cream pie just so that I could smack it onto the winking waiter's face.)

The gondola ride was actully beautiful. We stared out the window, watching the view in silence, until the fireworks started. They seemed dangerously close at times (some of the bigger explosions caused the gondola to sway just a little), but everything was carefully planned, and the display was spectacular. I would have enjoyed it a little more if explosions had not been such an integral part of my recent history. But I could easily understand why this was a popular thing for couples to do, and that brought back the dull ache that has been with me all this time, the bittersweetness of constantly being ever-so-close to the unattainable.

After that we stopped for ice cream, and I ordered my beloved orange sherbet – but it was nothing compared to what they had at the little stand in edge. It was sickly-sweet and insipid, and I guessed that real oranges hadn't been anywhere near it. I tried to make up for it by slurping the last third of it out through the cone, but Vincent wasn't looking, and I felt almost offended. I did, however, earn a cross look from a passing mother when her son tried it a moment later, which made me feel better.

Now, back in the hotel room, I am left to my own devices again: Vincent has knocked himself out, and I am not quite tired enough to sleep but not energetic enough to do much of anything. Lucrecia is keeping quiet now, for which I am thankful, because now the ache I feel is only my own. I don't mind my own longing; it's familiar, and I can accept it for what it is. I hope I can sleep eventually, that the memories of what cannot be undone (and what I didn't even _do_) don't bother me...

_Later: _It's almost dawn now. After writing the above, I slept a little and had the dream about the giant tree. As I suspected there would be, there was a variation – this time, when I found myself up on the cliff overlooking the now-green city, I felt as if there were other people up there with me. I tried to turn around and see who they were, but that motion awoke me. I didn't feel very rested, but it was still a pleasant change from the night before and its parade of regret.

Since then, I've been lying awake this whole time plagued not by the past, but by the present. This is, of course, the Haunted Hotel, and as such it has built-in "ghosts." Sometimes a holographic something will flicker across the room; other ghosts manifest themselves in the walls with a modest thump, creak, or moan, or occasionally the faint rattling of chains. Unfortunately, not long after I woke from my dream, from the room above us began a series of _un_modest thumpings, creakings and moanings that were not made by anything supernatural or even electronic. This continued for longer than seemed reasonable, and then a fight broke out in the room next to us. This woke up a small child in the room on the other side of ours, the irate father of which came knocking on _our _door. I directed him, with many apologies, to the room where the fight was and advised him not to meddle with it as it sounded to my (sadly experienced) ears like it could turn ugly: one man owed the other some money, and I had a terrible feeling that I knew exactly what that money had been for. We called security (who I presumed would be on my side if I were recognized, since Reeve has had connections here for a long time), and the situation calmed down almost immediately when the guards arrived. But by the time it was quiet again, I was too full of adrenaline to sleep. At least I rested a little, enough to have a genuine dream instead of too-real nightmares.

I just hope today goes smoothly. Right now, that's really all I ask for.


End file.
